


♢Deep Waters♢

by XxJaneDoexX



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Big Brother Mycroft, Biting, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Bottom Greg Lestrade, Bottom John Watson, Bottom Mycroft Holmes, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Boys Kissing, Captain John Watson, Case Fic, Character Development, Corpse Desecration, Creepy hospitals, Dark Comedy, Declarations Of Love, Doctors & Physicians, Domestic Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Don't say I didn't warn you, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gallows Humor, Graphic Description of Corpses, Greg Lestrade & John Watson Friendship, Greg is Sweet, Gruesome Murder, Height Differences, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not a serial killer btw, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, John Watson is a Good Boyfriend, John being a good father, John is a Sex God, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Making Love, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mycroft is in Love, Mycroft is not good at feelings, Nostalgia, One True Pairing, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Original Female Characters - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, POV Greg, POV John Watson, POV Molly Hooper, POV Mycroft Holmes, POV Sally Donovan, POV Sherlock Holmes, PTSD Greg, PTSD John, PTSD Mycroft, PTSD Sherlock, PTSD sally, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Mycroft, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Serial Killers, Sexual Tension, Sherlock Has a Military Kink, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson in Love, Sherlock is a Good Boyfriend, Sherlock is a Tease, Shower Sex, Size Kink, Slash, Smut, Top Greg Lestrade, Top John Watson, Top Mycroft, Top Sherlock, Touch-Starved, Triggers, Walks In The Woods, Walks On The Beach, positive character development
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 72,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxJaneDoexX/pseuds/XxJaneDoexX
Summary: Get in loser, we're going shipping.This is my version of life after the events of            'The Final Problem.'The last episode of season four, but it also contains elements from the entire series. So yeah...Obvious spoilers.Don't come after me with torches and pitchforks if Y'all don't take a moment to read my summary.But I digress.This fic contains RIDICULOUS amounts of smut since the BBC won't let us have nice things, but smut with a plot, I hope that my fic will make you laugh and also give you a good dose of the FEELS.This is SUPPOSED to be a mostly happy story because fuck knows we need one after season four.But. Like Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.I am not a merciful God. I'm an evil masochistic bastard and I survive on the tears of my viewers, so, naturally, It'll be fine and dandy for a suspiciously long time and then suddenly...All of the shit...Will hit all of the fans.





	1. I Don’t Have ‘Friends.'

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the original Sherlock content, blah, blah, blah, all other characters and content are my own.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These events take place a month after the incident at Sherrinford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy my fic.
> 
> Here's a link to the song that Sherlock plays on his violin at the beginning of the chapter. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b44-5M4e9nI
> 
>  
> 
> Once again, I hope that you enjoy my story as much as I have done writing it.
> 
> Kudos, comments and bookmarks make me so happy. :)

# ♢Chapter One: I Don’t Have ‘Friends.'♢

 

 

 

 

_The Harrowing and chaotic events of Sherrinford had left everyone feeling emotionally broken and struggling to come to terms with normal life, w_ hatever the fuck a normal life was...Normal didn't exist in their world.

The newly rebuilt 221B felt far too........Ordinary, even after a solid month and no traces _of the explosion were visible anywhere; the charred interior of the flat had been gutted and redecorated to look as if the explosion had never happened, e_ verything was more or less as it should be and yet, it still felt vaguely unsettling. 

_John sat down in his new chair and listened to the muted sounds of Sherlock's violin floating down the hallway, It was a melody that surprisingly, he recognised, It was Charles-Camille Saint-Saëns's 'The Swan'  from 'The Carnival of the animals,_ Sherlock's playing was exquisite, so soothing and beautiful, John sighed and sipped at his  _glass of iced tea;_ _It was summer in London and the intense heat made him feel slightly drowsy,_ there was sudden silence and the _soft, 'click' of a door opening._  

John looked up at the sound of Sherlock’s bedroom door softly opening and closing again; he _pretended to read a case file on the side table next to him, He did his best not to look up when he heard Sherlock enter the room, there was an almost tangible, smouldering tension in the air and_ John felt his pulse begin to rise as Sherlock turned to face him; his beautiful crystalline eyes met his own with piercing intensity, he exhaled _and took a calming sip of Iced tea._

The atmosphere was almost flammable. 

 

_‘John, there's something that I need you to know.'_

 

_Sherlock’s deep, rich voice ghosted through the room and left no corner untouched,_ _He was very pale and the haunted memories of Sherrinford were fresh in his wide, opalescent eyes, h_ e was wearing his customary linen sheet, draped like a toga over his thin lithe form, he watched _John intently from the door frame and the look on his angular face made John_ _huff out a nervous breath._

 

_‘And what's that Sherlock?’_

 

Sherlock shuffled uncomfortably and gazed at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world, he _took a deep breath and looked beseechingly at John._

 

_‘When Mycroft was being obnoxious and said that information about Eurus was a family matter...you are family, John_ _...._ _You came back...After everything that happened.......After all the terrible, terrible things that I've done......_ You came back........ _And you stayed.'_

 

Sherlock's eyes were shimmering with unshed tears and his face was more open than John had ever seen it.

 

' _Please...._ _Please don’t leave me again John....’_

 

_After a moment John sighed and heaved himself from the comfort of his armchair,_ _It was at this moment that he realized he was rather underdressed,_ It was summer and although John enjoyed the hot, dry heat of Afghanistan, he wasn't _so fond of the stifling heat here at Baker Street;_ _He had therefore adopted to wear something other than the usual jumper and jeans._

_The Desert camouflage trousers were slung low at his rapidly trimming waist and the battered, white tank top showcased his recently returned upper body,_ _His collarbones were sharp and defined in the hazy sunlight streaming into the room, Sherlock took a step back and let out a breath, the force of it caused the dust motes in the air to swirl in intricate patterns where they touched the light, for someone with Sherlock’s amazing powers of deduction, he really wasn’t being very observant today._

_He’d been so caught up in staring pleadingly into John’s eyes and forever searing his glorious image into his retinas; that he hadn’t even noticed what John was wearing...This irritated him...How in the world could he have failed to notice what John was wearing? He couldn’t understand it..._ He looked absolutely ravishing.

 


	2. A Leap Of Faith.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smell that? It's sexual tension.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love it if you guys could give me some feedback. 
> 
> :)

 

 

# ♢Chapter Two: A Leap Of Faith.♢

 

 

 

_John took a step forward into Sherlock's personal space and took in his_ _appearance; h_ _is eyes were dazzling with moisture;_ _John could see a mesmerising kaleidoscope of light sparkling in their shimmering depths, h_ _e studied them further and watched as Sherlock's_ pupils dilated until there was _only a thin silver-blue ring visible, a_ ll the while, Sherlock was making his own silent observations, _John wore his hair longer these days and Sherlock liked it...He liked it a lot._

_He felt a strange feeling sweep through him every time John's silvery fringe fell across his eyes, he revelled in the way John would reflexively flick it off his face with a small jerk of his head and he would get to see the way the muscles tensed under the skin of his tanned neck, h_ e felt his cheeks grow hot as he shyly let his gaze travel down John’s body and good god did he like what he saw; the _thin white tank top was stretched snugly over his chest and a sheen of sweat glistened on his biceps and collarbones, Sherlock’s mouth was suddenly very dry._

He licked his lips without meaning to do so and saw John’s eyes dart to watch the show, his _dark eyes were boring into Sherlock’s rigid control like two smouldering sapphires._

 

_‘You’re dehydrated.’_

 

_Said John, not taking his eyes off Sherlock’s mouth._

 

_‘Boring.’_

 

_Said Sherlock reflexively in a slightly distracted voice._

 

John wandered into the kitchen and Sherlock heard the fridge door open and swing shut again; h _e came back into the living room holding two bottles of unopened water._

 

_‘Catch,’_  

 

_He murmured, tossing one of the water bottles to Sherlock who caught it with impressive ease, t_ _he movement jostled his sheet toga and he sighed as it sagged around his thin frame; he_  cocked his head to one side and hitched a crooked grin onto his handsome face.

 

_‘Don’t be alarmed John...unlike our misadventures at Buckingham Palace...I am at least, wearing pants this time.’_

 

_John raised one eyebrow in confusion._

   

_‘What the bloody hell are you on abou......?’_

 

Sherlock smiled and shrugged the crisp linen sheet from around his _shoulders like an alabaster peacock, he held John's gaze and smoothed his fingertips over the water bottle in his free hand,_ John's eyes widened slightly as  _miles and miles of snowy skin and well-defined muscle was unveiled to him;_ _Sherlock was wearing a pair of deliciously snug, silk, black lounge pants._  

 

_Oh, bloody hell..._ That's not fair.

 

_He almost dropped his own water bottle in surprise and was annoyed to find that he was momentarily incapable of speech, Sherlock was so fucking beautiful; John felt utterly dumbstruck,_ _He distracted himself by taking a long sip of the ice-cold water,_ _All the while_ _Sherlock was cataloguing everything about the way John’s throat moved when he drank._

_Sherlock took a drink of his water too, making sure to seal his lips around the bottle,_   _He pulled off and Accidentally’ Spilled some of the water down his chin and chest, John made an involuntary low noise in the back of his throat as he watched the droplets of water cascade down Sherlock's pale skin;_ _He took a step closer to Sherlock until they were a foot away from each other, t_ _hey stood staring at each other, two Incredibly stubborn men locked in a_ _battle of wills, John let out a shaky breath and spoke in a soft voice._

 

'I' _m not going to leave again Sherlock...O_ _nce you move into 221B you become a permanent fixture._ _'_

 

He took a deep breath and sipped his water before he spoke again in a much softer voice.

 

'You faked your own death _..._ _You locked me in a cage in a secret government test facility....'_

 

He frowned at Sherlock slightly and laughed despite himself.

 

_'You drugged me..._ _Your little sister is an insane genius and your_ _big brother is an absolute prat..._ I worry so much about you and.....' 

 

_John broke off as Sherlock moved swiftly to stand further into his personal space, he towered over him and radiated an inescapable elegance_ _;_ _Sherlock stepped even closer to him until John could feel the heat radiating off of his body; Sherlock huffed out a small breath and gave him a soul-searching look, the tension in the room had reached its peak, Sherlock gently stretched out a hand and placed in on John's shoulder; John tensed at the sudden feeling of Sherlock's strong hand on his shoulder but quickly recovered himself as he looked back at Sherlock._

_He found himself stepping forward to close the tiny gap between them and shuddered slightly as Sherlock's warm, lithe body pressed up against him, Sherlock reached out a hand and gently stroked his Cheek with a warm, calloused thumb._

_John let out a small gasp and closed his eyes for a second, when he opened them again Sherlock was smiling almost shyly at him, his cheeks were stained a faint shade of pink; he was so close to him now that he could smell his wonderfully decadent cologne and a faint trace of peppermint on his warm breath_ Sherlock suddenly sighed and looked as if he was at war with his emotions, the sudden coiling tension has quickly evaporated as John took in the sight of the stricken-looking detective. 

 

'I have something that I would like to get off my chest... _I am sure the events of late are still fresh in your mind...may I tell you something John?'_

 

_He asked in a strained voice._

 

_'Of course you can Sherlock.'_

 

_Replied John in a gentle voice, Sherlock exhaled a sigh of relief and went on,_

 

'Do you know the reason why I violently destroyed that infernal coffin back in Sherrinford? _’_

 

_John swallowed audibly, he suddenly realized just how tall Sherlock really was compared to him, h_ _e towered over him, his pupils were nothing but dark pools against the shock of pale skin, h_ _is full pink lips were slightly parted and he tilted his head in question._

 

_'Well...Eurus made you hurt Molly...But it wasn't your fault Sherlock..._ Molly knows that it wasn't you...She just needs time.' 

 

_Sherlock sighed and cast his eyes to the ceiling with a pained expression on his face._

 

 'I hated it.....I hated how much she made me hurt her.'

 

Sherlock took a deep breath and spoke again.

 

_'You of all people know that romantic attachment is a foreign concept to me....But that isn’t the only reason I did it.’_

 

Sherlock stepped back and released John from the confines of his arms, he _looked down at him and reached for his hand, lacing his long fingers with John’s shorter ones._

 

' _Eurus knows everything about me...She knows everything about you...She knows perfectly well how much you mean to me...Every second you were holding that gun I wanted to kill her...H_ _aving to stand by and watch_ _her destroy you by testing your moral codes....Inside I was screaming...And when she made me choose between you and Mycroft I knew...'_

 

_Sherlock took a shuddering breath and locked his eyes with John's._

 

'The point I'm trying to make is... _Eurus did the_ cruellest _thing to me that anybody could possibly do...As you know I have very few people that I would call friends...Not only did she try to take you away from me.....She made me say those three, stupid little words....._

 

It _was as if Sherlock was making a confession in a darkened box in a chapel;_ _It was eerie b_ _ut also beautiful to behold._

 

_‘She stole those words from me, John.'_  

 

_John's chest had suddenly gone very tight and his eyes were beginning to sting, h_ e was well acquainted with crying......H _e had cried himself to sleep many a night, curled in a ball in his solitary marital bed,_ _e had sobbed deliriously into Mary’s pillow,_ _desperately inhaling her fading Claire-De-La-Lune perfume, h_ e'd screamed _loud enough to wake the dead...If only._  

_He had shunned Sherlock completely, had been cruel and vicious to the supposedly cold, unfeeling man,_ _Sherlock had come back even when John thought it was impossible, John wasn't gay, He really wasn’t, he was....well........He wasn’t really sure what he was anymore._

_Sherlock didn’t really fit either category_ _; he_ _was tall and willowy, slightly feminine,_  yet _he was also nimble and powerful,_ _He had marble-like skin that went on for miles, t_ _he sheer elegance and grace of him made him seem more like a mythical being than a human man...So....John supposed he was Sherlock-sexual, he_  swallowed hard and tried his best to speak.

 

_‘Sherlock...I need you to know, that I’m sorry....Sorry for everything, I'_ _ve been a total arsehole since...well...'_  

 

John took a deep breath and spoke again.

 

_'Mary saved, you Sherlock.....She knew I’d need you and she made a choice, you didn’t ask her to do it...._ _She did it for me, I know I’ve treated you badly...._ _And that I hurt you..._ I’m so sorry Sherlock.' 

 

John looked down at the carpet and sighed before looking back up

  

' _Mary was a liar..._ 'She _was genius...And she was a murderer.....’_

 

_Oh the irony._

 

 

_‘Sherlock....’_

 

John sighed and cleared his throat nervously; there was a writhing pit of tension in his gut and his breathing was slightly shallow, he _pulled himself together and tried to speak again._

 

' _Sherlock...I_ _._......... _I love you.’_

 

The r _oom had gone very still._ , _John could almost hear the beating of their hearts in the tense silence; Sherlock’s face was an unreadable mask for a very long time_ _, so_ _long that John found himself thinking back to when he’s asked him to be his best man, It had been INTENSELY creepy back then, but now it was intriguing to watch as Sherlock digested the new data; his face then morphed into one of total perplexity and then to one of something John could not translate, h_ e stayed silent a while until he leaned down and pressed _his forehead against his own._

John felt a splash of warm on his cheek and _looked up to look at Sherlock, his eyes were blazing like the aurora borealis and glistening with more tears; Sherlock released John’s hands, wound one arm around his waist and used his free hand to cup his chin,_ _Sherlock breathed slowly in and out a few times to steady himself_ _, h_ e leaned forward until his lips traced the shell of John’s ear and blew _a warm breath onto his skin._

 

_‘I love you too.’_

 

_His voice was deep and unctuous and it struck a chord deep inside of John,_ _Each rumbling, velvety syllable made him feel like he was on fire; he’d spent so many months feeling like he was a dead man walking_ _But now he had never felt so alive, his breath hitched in his throat and he closed his eyes._

 

' _Say it again.’_

 

_He muttered, feeling his throat catch as he spoke._

 

_‘Only if you_ _say it too.’_

 

_Came the gravelly response from behind Sherlock’s curtain of dark, silky hair; John reached up and blew the hair off of Sherlock’s face and draped his arms around his neck._

  

_‘I already said it.'_

 

Sherlock chuckled softly.

 

_‘Yes, Well...Say it again anyway.’_

 

John took a deep breath and locked eyes with Sherlock.

 

_‘I love you, Sherlock Holmes..._ _God help me I really bloody do, even though you’re a total git for 90% of the time and the other 10% you’re only slightly less of a total git...You’re damaged...Hopelessly stubborn...And you don’t have friends...Neither do I really,_ I never seem to get a moment's peace long enough to make any.'

 

John grinned.

 

_'Bloody Lestrade looking for advice on a vicious triple murderer, y_ _our arse of a brother poking his nose in..._ _Oh yeah! And your secret sister using a drone to blow up the fucking flat!!! From the day I first met you at Bart’s, when you were being Mr fucking clever with your big coat and your cheekbones..._ _I love you.....So fucking much_ _Sherlock._ _’_

 

Sherlock's smile made John's heart explode with joy.

 

_'May I kiss you, John?'_

 

_Asked Sherlock in a soft voice that John had never heard before, it was so tender yet strained and he loved it at once._

 

_'At this point, I'd be offended if you didn't.'_

 

_Sherlock huffed out a small laugh to disguise his nervousness, he moved his hand to caress John's cheek and leaned closer to him; the millimetres between them seemed an ocean away as Sherlock summoned his courage, he abandoned all other thoughts and pressed his lips to John's...And the world abruptly stopped turning._

_John let out a soft moan against Sherlock's lips and locked an arm around his waist; he threaded his free hand in Sherlock's mane of dark curls, h_ _e’d always wanted to do that and was not disappointed, Sherlock's ebony hair was softer than silk and smelled delicious, Sherlock pulled back after about ten seconds, panting and flushed, he stared transfixed into John's beautiful blue-grey eyes, yhey looked practically feral._

Sherlock fought to keep his breathing under control and traced the line of John's cheekbones; _John pushed his chest flush against Sherlock’s and latched his mouth onto the crook of his neck; biting down gently on the spot between his neck and shoulder, Sherlock groaned and pushed John’s hands above his head;_ _He closed the gap between them and rocked his hips against John’s abdomen,_ _The height difference was a little off but there was just enough teasing pressure to make John gasp against Sherlock’s neck._

_Sherlock tipped John's head back to capture his lips in a soul-searching kiss; John's lips were hot and smooth but all too soon he needed air,_   _He could feel John shaking as he pulled away a few inches to stare at him with wide, lust blown eyes._

 

_'I love you, John..._ I love you more than I've ever loved anything in the whole entire world...Will you come to bed with me?'

 

_Sherlock’s hot, sweet breath ghosted hotly over John’s lips and made a pleasant shudder course through him._

 

_‘Oh. God. Yes.’_

 

 

Sherlock all but dragged John to his room; It _was as if the floodgates containing his rigid self-control had broken open and threatened to drown him in unfamiliar but intensely pleasant sensations; he had once felt like he was just drifting, an emotionless husk with no real sense of direction, as remote and empty as the moon...But now he had John to guide him back to earth._

John grunted softly when Sherlock pushed him up against the door and all but ravaged his mouth; He _gasped in surprise as he felt Sherlock trace the seam of his bottom lip with his tongue and then bit down gently._

 

_‘Sh...Sherlock.’_

 

_He tried to speak between the frantic kisses but Sherlock just growled, pushed a leg between his thighs and kissed him more ferociously, Sherlock pulled away, panting and gave John a look that made his bones turn into clay, his pale face was flushed a delicate shade of pink and his dark, wide eyes were boring into John’s with hunger and desperation;_ _hi_ _s soft, plush lips were swollen from their kisses and it that moment, all doubt was erased from John’s mind,_ _All of the questions about his sexuality melted away into the ether...He should have known from the very beginning that this ridiculous man...Was going to be the death of him._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos would be super awesome. :)


	3. Reckless Abandon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, glorious smut.

 

#  ♢Chapter Three: Reckless Abandon♢

 

 

 

 

John grabbed Sherlock’s shoulders and pushed him back, Sherlock looked briefly confused and hurt until John firmly pushed him down onto his expensive looking mattress;  _He traced his fingertips over his porcelain _skin with his fingertips and_ felt his frantic pulse racing beneath and with a surge of courage that he needed more than ever, he leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to Sherlock’s exposed neck, Sherlock’s eyes slid closed and his face flushed...But it felt wonderful, John’s lips were hot and slightly chapped and the sensation was nearly overpowering; John felt Sherlock’s hands against his back; twisting the thin cotton of the tank top in his fingers._

 _He gently bit down on Sherlock’s soft neck and chuckled as another barely stifled moan filled the space between them, John was feeling oddly bold so he pulled back to look Sherlock in the eyes, hesitantly, he rocked his hips forward, Sherlock's his eyes shut tight and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, just when John didn’t think the room could get any hotter,_ _Sherlock growled and holy Shit...He should not have done that._

_The faint sounds of a tropical storm drifted in through the open window, an ominous grey cloud had been hanging quite literally over 221B And a  warm, muggy breeze broke across John’s skin making him shudder slightly; Sherlock was watching him like a panther; propped up on his elbows and looking at John from under his long ebony lashes, the expression on his face sent a flash of pleasure to his gut._

_Everything they had been through had brought them to this inevitable conclusion, they had been ghosting around the subject of their ever-deepening bond to each other for so many years now and there was no question that it was the real final problem, John was as stubborn as they came, short, grumpy and war-damaged, he didn’t like change and most of all he didn’t like feeling vulnerable, he was angry, bitter and stricken with the loss of..._

 

_Mary._

 

_John used to joke with Sherlock about Irene Adler, how he failed to deduce her and that she was always one step ahead...That seemed almost funny now, Sherlock had lied to him, he'd faked his own death...But he’d come back...And John needed him more than he ever thought he would._

_He took a breath and stretched as he pulled his tank top over his head, the action pulled his fringe up into a quiff, when he tipped his head forward slightly the movement caused a lock of silvery hair to fall in front of one eye; he flicked his head slightly to dislodge it, Sherlock exhaled a shaky breath, the simple action was so erotic to behold, he felt his earlier bravado melt away...He was kissing John, spread out on his bed and oh God....How many nights had he dreamed about this very scenario?_

 

' _Touch me, please Sherlock.’_  

 

John's voice was strained.

 

_Sherlock swallowed thickly and gingerly traced his fingertips over John’s back, his skin was smooth and tanned and perfect, emboldened by John's noises of pleasure he gently scraped his nails down his shoulders and lower back and was pleased when John let out a rumbling growl, Sherlock’s eyes flicked to his in question._

 

_‘Do that again.’_

 

 _Sherlock seemed fascinated and obliged but timed the action with a roll of his own hips;_ _John gasped as his felt Sherlock’s swollen length pressed against the fabric of the camo trousers;_ _his expensive looking lounge pants outlining the hard column of flesh._

 _He was not at all surprised to find that Sherlock was wonderfully in proportion to his height and John had to blink a few times, he_ _sat up and rolled over to the free side of the bed and fixed his gaze back onto Sherlock; he watched hungrily as he gripped the waistband of his lounge pants and lifted his hips thin to pull them off._

_Sherlock’s legs were long and lean, wiry with hidden strength the sinfully tight black boxer shorts were causing John’s mouth to feel very dry, there was a dark patch staining the front and it made John’s own cock twitch painfully in his trousers; he stretched out a hand and placed it on Sherlock’s knee, not pushing to go any higher, just to have some contact with the smooth skin._

_Sherlock flinched only a little and moaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed._

John took this as a sign that Sherlock was happy for him to continue he _gently traced his fingertips up Sherlock's inner thigh and marvelled in the sharp gasp that tore through his lips, his back arched off the mattress._

 

_‘John!’_

 

 _Sherlock’s voice was tight and desperate and another flicker of pleasure stirred in John’s gut; he dragged his fingertips over the silk boxers, moaning quietly at the feel of Sherlock’s straining erection,_ _Sherlock’s breath hitched and his eyes flew open._

 

_'We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do Sherlock.’_

 

_Sherlock half smiled and managed to roll his eyes._

 

_'John...Please....'_

 

_‘Can I take these off, Sherlock?’_

 

_Sherlock exhaled hard and bit his lip, he nodded sharply and stared pointedly at the ceiling; his face and neck were flushed with embarrassment, he’d never felt this exposed in his entire life, even under the capture of Eurus, he was laid out to John utterly bare._

 

_John made a small choked sound and exhaled hard through his nostrils, he’d fooled around with men in the army but it was never raw and passionate like this, it had always been out of frustration and loneliness._

 

_But this was Sherlock._

 

 _John could hardly breathe as he took in the magnificent sight of him, looking so rarely out of control; his eyes flicked down to Sherlock’s cock and his breath caught;_ _Sherlock was like the rest of his body, long, pale and quivering,_ _His glorious cock lay heavily against his stomach._

 _John trailed his fingertips up Sherlock’s inner thigh and smirked as Sherlock exhaled sharply and bit his plush lower lip;_ John kept his eyes fixed on Sherlock’s as he continued skimming his fingertips across his skin, summoning _all of his bravery, he exhaled a breath and gently gripped Sherlock’s cock._

 _Sherlock exhaled a shocked sounding moan and felt his hips buck against his own accord as a savage jolt of raw pleasure went to his core;_ _John huffed a small laugh and swiped his thumb over the clear liquid pooling at the tip spreading the moisture over the hypersensitive skin there and suddenly he_ was entirely lost...I _t felt better than all the drugs in the world put together._

 _He couldn't help the way his hips rolled as they sought out more friction;_ _John obliged by gently stroking Sherlock, adding a twist to every upward action,_ _Sherlock’s eyes fluttered closed and he shuddered; there were things he wanted to say to John,_ _Meaningful words to express just how much he needed him; but this intense feeling was shutting down his brain and reducing his bones to jelly and rendering him helpless._

 _Sherlock had never bothered with masturbation;_ _He would just think briefly about his brother and the problem would go away, t_ _he foreign and dizzying sensations were wiping out everything else in the world._

   

_‘John.'_

 

_John used his free hand to cup Sherlock’s cheek, he needed to see Sherlock lose control._

 

 

_‘Look at me, Sherlock Holmes.'_

 

 _Sherlock fixed his eyes on John’s straining to keep them open as John languidly stroked him, never breaking rhythm,_ _Sherlock shuddered and moaned as a hot, slick feeling trickled into his abdomen, scorching him like lava; John was honestly surprised that Sherlock was holding out so well, he had proclaimed himself a virgin and yet he was able to keep up with John’s skilled pace quite easily._

 _Although he was obviously still shy and unsure of what to do with the torrent of new sensations flooding over him,_ _John bent his head to suck a bruise into Sherlock’s neck._

 

' _Have you any idea how fucking perfect you are?’_

 

 _He growled into Sherlock’s skin, gently squeezing Sherlock’s cock and then stretching up to recapture his mouth in a fiery kiss;_ _John swallowed Sherlock's breathy moans and whimpers and continued his slow pace,_ _Sherlock tried to move but John put a firm hand on his hips, holding him in place._

 

It was sweet agony, like tiptoeing _along a razor’s edge and Sherlock just wanted more,_ He reluctantly pulled away from John gasping for breath, as he did so, a thin strand of saliva stretched between then and lingered on John’s bottom lip, he swept _his tongue out and looking Sherlock dead in the eye; he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth._

 

 _All the air blew out of Sherlock’s lungs, He didn’t know why, but looking at John’s mouth made his cock twitch almost painfully,_ _John smirked and took Sherlock’s hand, he brought it to his face and gently kissed his bruised knuckles._

 

_He really had punched the shit out of that coffin._

 

 _Sherlock’s hand twitched at the contact but he did not pull away,_ _John tested the waters some more and turned Sherlock’s hand to kiss his palm, he responded with a small moan;_ _He decided that he might as well push his luck completely; so he gently mouthed at the tip of two of Sherlock’s fingers._

 

 _Sherlock's breathing hitched,_ _John’s mouth was akin to the tropical storm brewing overhead._

 

_Hot, wet, and thoroughly unpredictable._

 

 _John let out a husky chuckle against the tip of Sherlock’s fingers and then sunk them into the savage inferno of his mouth;_ _Sherlock groaned between his clenched teeth and bucked his hips forward, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as_ _John swirled his tongue around the long digits and slid them from his mouth,_ He instantly missed John’s mouth on his fingers; but he soon forgot his troubles as John lunged forward and bit down on his neck sucking a deep purple mark into the ivory flesh.

 

 _‘Christ John.'_  

 

 _Sherlock hissed out through his teeth,_ John only chuckled and pressed hot kisses into his skin;  _He mouthed over his chest where he ghosted his tongue over his sensitive nipples; Sherlock gasped and arched his back,_ _The tongue travelled lower across his abdomen leaving a trail of fire; it swept over thin hip bones and then he stopped, h_ _e let out a gust of hot breath onto Sherlock's straining cock._

_Sherlock let out a sound halfway between a groan and a sigh; he twitched and bucked into the heat without meaning to do so; he panted and tangled his hand in John’s silvery hair_

 

John took a moment to breathe, he _hadn’t done this for a long time...Not since his army days, but he supposed that he wasn’t called ‘three continent’s Watson’ for nothing._

 

 _He gripped Sherlock’s cock with a slightly unsteady hand and bent his head forward to capture the swollen tip in his mouth, a drawn out, gravelly moan ripped through Sherlock’s teeth and the long fingers in his hair gripped tighter; he hollowed his cheeks and took in another inch of Sherlock, he felt like silk covered steel,_  h _e pulled off again quickly and swirled his tongue around the sensitive head making_ _Sherlock’s eyes roll and his whole body seized up._

Sherlock moaned again and clenched his eyes shut, his mind had been instantly wiped clean by the feeling of John's mouth; never _in all his miserable life had he felt such tremendous ecstasy._  

John’s mouth was hot and silky around him and his tongue was wicked, deeper and deeper he seemed to sink into the all-consuming heat; his _face twisted with a spasm of pleasure as John hummed against his cock, the vibrations ran deep through him._

 John sucked and licked him with all the skill he could muster; he revelled in Sherlock’s deep growls and breathy whimpering and felt his neglected cock twitch painfully in his trousers, he moaned around Sherlock's cock before _he pulled off with a wet popping noise._

 

' _Sherlock...'_

 

_God John's voice sounded so gorgeously wrecked and gravelly._

 

 _'I know that this is all very new for you and I uh..._ _I want to make it as enjoyable for you as possible.’_

  

_He took a deep, steadying breath and looked Sherlock dead in the eyes._

 

 

 _'_ _I want you to fuck me, Sherlock.’_

 

 _He got a flashing image of Sherlock’s face as he entered John for the first time and he felt the pool of desire inside him swirl, he_ _made sure to capture Sherlock’s cock quickly in his mouth and release it immediately, Sherlock’s eyes widened and then rolled back at the surprise feeling of John’s mouth, It was gone far too soon for his liking..._

 

' _John...What....?'_

 

_He trailed off as John stood up and casually walked out of his room._

 

_Half naked._

 

_With a raging erection._

 

_What on earth was going on? Mr Hudson would surely suffer a seizure if she caught him, Sherlock was starting to feel increasingly confused until John stepped back into the room._

 

 

 

_Minus his trousers._

 

 _He was wearing light grey boxer shorts and the evidence of his arousal was instantly drawing Sherlock's eye, the hard line of his cock strained against the thin cotton; a_ _damp patch was pooling on the front and the muscles in his legs were corded with tension, John's lips pulled up into a cheeky smirk._

 

_‘See anything you like?’_

 

H _e murmured, he pushed his hips forward so that his cock was stretched tight in his boxers, i_ t outlined John in all his glory, his cock was long and thick and it made Sherlock ache to witness something so delicious, he _took a deep breath and tried to speak._

 

_‘Everything.'_

 

_He murmured in a dark, lilting voice._

 

_He took a step forward and held John's burning gaze._

 

'I like everything.'

 

_'Tell me again what you wish me to do to you, John.’_

 

 _Sherlock hoped his voice was steady, he was trembling and felt so hot that he might combust,_ _John was feet away looking better than any of Sherlock’s fantasies had ever been able to come up with; hi_ s _eyes were so hungry looking that Sherlock had to look away as his cock pulsed; John knelt on the bed and put the bottle on the nightstand, Sherlock looked up at him and was treated to a front-row view of John’s crotch, and he could almost smell John’s hormones. He seemed surprisingly calm on the surface but in truth, John was barely holding himself back._

 _Sherlock looked him over with ravenous eyes, h_ _e sat up on his knees in front of John, leaning forward until his mouth was on John’s neck; he blew out a hot breath and felt John seize up;_ _Sherlock kissed John’s neck and gently nipped the skin, John let out a sharp breath,_ _Sherlock grinned against John’s neck and sucked a red bruise into his skin._

 _John let out a strangled growl and bucked his hips forward;_ _Sherlock took John by the shoulders and pushed him onto his back giving him a rough kiss,_ _John fell back on the bed with a small grunt and barely had time to register the new position._

 

  _‘Tell me.’_

 

 _Sherlock’s voice was thick and unctuous now, clearly, he_ _was enjoying his new found power over him, h_ e fixed John with a predatory gaze and arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him, J _ohn_ let out a shuddering breath and looked Sherlock square in the eye.

 

_I want you..... to stop talking and I......I want you to Fuck me, Sherlock.’_

 

 

The look that Sherlock gave him was both hungry and smug.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always awesome :)


	4. Floodgates.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex.
> 
> All of the sex.

 

#  ♢Chapter Four♢

 

#  ♢Floodgates♢

 

 

 

_Sherlock gripped the edge of John’s boxers and roughly pulled them down and John let out a surprised groan as his long suffering cock sprang free of the fabric prison, he chuckled as Sherlock’s eyes widened._

 

' _Are you surprised?’_

 

_He asked unabashed; Sherlock pulled his eyes up to John’s face._

 

_‘Not at all John; I don’t imagine you had trouble gaining your rank as captain with that thing hidden in your trousers.’_

 

_There was a beat of tense silence and for a second John was stupefied, then his face broke into a grin and he giggled._

 

' _Don’t be funny when we’re about to have sex you bastard! I can’t express two emotions at once right now!’_

 

_Sherlock snorted and turned his gaze back to John’s cock, it was slightly shorter than Sherlock’s but wonderfully thick, he suddenly felt guilty for not returning the gesture, so to speak, he intended to fully make it up to John and more, he wanted to know what made John tick._

_He propped himself up on one arm by John’s waist and gently grazed John’s thigh with his the fingertips of his free hand; John closed his eyes and his breath hitched slightly; Sherlock mimicked John’s actions by trailing his fingertips down his inner thigh; John’s head hit the pillows._

 

_‘Christ Sherlock.’_

 

_John moaned weakly, his self-control was wearing paper thin at this stage and he was so impatient for Sherlock to finally touch him, Sherlock focused all his efforts as he gently wrapped his long fingers around John’s cock and squeezed the base; John out a low growl and bucked into Sherlock’s hand; Sherlock didn’t really know what to do but he’d liked what John had done to him so tried to do the same._

_Curious, he slipped his thump over the tip of John’s cock and smeared the moisture beading there, John whimpered and clashed his teeth together in a snarl at the feeling, John’s head was an absolute mess as Sherlock gripped his cock slightly harder and stroked it._

 

_'So you want me to fuck you?'_

 

_It was the first time John had ever heard Sherlock say ‘Fuck.’ Before and It sounded so odd in his posh accent but it was also the single hottest thing that John had ever heard._

 

_‘Y...yes Sherlock,’_

 

_Sherlock chuckled and squeezed John’s cock as if to claim it; John hissed and arched into the touch; he swiped the bottle of lube off the nightstand and held it out to him; Sherlock looked at it with something close to apprehension, but he took it anyway; tilting it to watch the liquid move, he flicked the lid and gingerly let a small amount pool onto his fingers, John watched with wavering patience as Sherlock slid the lube around his fingers with a puzzled expression on his face._

_He timidly returned his hand to John’s cock and swiped his slick thumb over the sensitive tip; John’s mouth twisted into an expression of ecstasy and he whimpered impatiently._

 

_‘Oh god Sherlock please....I can’t bear it anymore, Please would you hurry up and fuck me.'_

 

I _t came out in a rush against Sherlock’s ear and he didn't even care how wanton he sounded, Sherlock quickened his pace a little making John grunt in frustration, he needed more of Sherlock; he grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled to reposition himself atop Sherlock’s hips making their cocks press together, Sherlock let out a shaky moan and John a harsh noise in his throat, he trailed his fingertips down John’s toned back and paused at the base._

 

_The swell of John’s arse was absolutely marvellous._

 

_John retrieved the lube and spread a generous amount onto his fingers, he returned the bottle to the nightstand and wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock, his eyes snapped closed and he groaned deeply._

 

' _I'm clean, I know you had me tested.’_

 

_‘I was curious.’_

 

_‘Oh you were where you now, you’d know we wouldn’t need condoms if this ever happened?’_

 

' _In essence.’_

 

' _Ooh, You sly bastard!’_

 

_John grabbed Sherlock’s hand and placed it on his cock, seeing Sherlock with his own hand around his cock was utterly breathtaking; John watched greedily as he experimentally tugged and let out a harsh gasp._

 

' _Please Sherlock, I need you to touch me._.. _please’_

 

_Sherlock stretched over to grab the lube again, he poured a generous amount on his fingers and trailed his slick fingers over the cleft of John's arse, his breath hitched when he felt the tight ring of muscle flex against his fingertips; he pressed one finger very lightly to John’s hole._

 

_'What should I do John?'_

 

_Sherlock's voice was hoarse and rumbling._

 

 _‘You’re going to have to prep me Sherlock, slowly push your finger in and I’ll tell you when to add another.’_  

 

 

_John could not believe how calm he was._

 

_Sherlock circled John’s hole once more before he slowly pressed a finger into him, his eyes rolled shut and he bit his lip again; god it was maddening, nothing could possibly be that warm or tight._

 

_John groaned as he adjusted to the not at all unpleasant feeling._

 

_‘Now m...move Sherlock, please.’_

 

_Sherlock withdrew his finger slightly before pushing it back into the heat, slowly repeating the action while John writhed._

 

_‘Add......add another finger now Sherlock.’_

 

_Sherlock obliged and deftly inserted another finger, it was difficult because he was just so tight, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fit; John closed around his fingers like a well made glove and he watched as John threw his head back with a moan._

 

' _Mmm...More Sh, Sherlock.’_

 

_Sherlock growled and pumped three fingers slowly in and out of John; he gripped him slickly and perfectly, he couldn’t believe he was going to be taking John very soon; his painfully hard cock gave a twitch at the thought._

_By now John was an incoherent mess, basically fucking himself onto Sherlock’s fingers; he gasped and then suddenly cried out loudly as Sherlock’s fingers brushed up against his prostate._

 

_‘Oh god...Shit.....THERE! Oh god, do that again, please Sherlock...Oh, Jesus Christ!’_

 

_Sherlock found the small bundle of nerves again and crooked his finger slightly; John barked out a cry of pleasure and pressed back on Sherlock’s fingers, he was ready. He was so fucking ready._

 

_‘Shherlock....Please.'_

 

_Sherlock huffed nervously and slid his fingers from the warm heat of John._

 

' _I want to see your face when you fall apart Sherlock.'_

 

' _I want you to moan the house down and to hell with what the neighbours say.'_

 

' _Did you like what you felt? '_

 

_He purred, he rocked his hips forward against Sherlock’s making him whimper and thrust._

 

_'Johhn, John.....I need...ohhh.’_

 

' _What do you need?' Tell me what you need Sherlock.’_

 

_'I need you John....I just need you.'_

 

_Sherlock hissed and squeezed his cock at the base to quell the tingling feeling in his balls._

 

_‘Oh god above, you really do look magnificent with your hand around your cock.’_

 

_'John....Please...Show me what to do...’_

 

_John straightened up and positioned himself over Sherlock’s straining cock and gripped him firmly with one hand whilst bracing his free arm on the other side of Sherlock’s head, he teased the tip of Sherlock’s cock against his wet, slick hole._

_Sherlock gasped and clamped his bottom lip in his teeth, it took all of_ _his dwindling willpower not to thrust up against the heat, he curled his fingers around John’s hips and hissed as John pressed himself harder against his cock, not taking him in just teasing him, he was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood at the desperate desire to push forward into him._

 

_‘Johnnn....I’m begging you, please....'_

 

_John took a deep breath and gently pressed against the steely head of Sherlock’s cock; taking in just the very tip and pausing there to adjust, he blew out a breath and pushed down a little more._

 

_Sherlock’s mind had been knocked dead by the severity of the sensation, he let out a horse cry and screwed his eyes shut._

_John moaned softly and sunk down past the head of Sherlock’s cock; his muscles flexed and then they were joined as one._

_Sherlock’s face twisted in a portrait of sweet agony, His whole body arched off the bed, no words came from his mouth, just a thin, ragged groan as he bucked his hips up and watched slowly as John’s body enveloped his cock._

_John moaned and rocked his hips slowly as he took Sherlock in inch by inch; Sherlock's lip twisted in a snarl as his cock was finally buried to the hilt, Sherlock’s hips stuttered and slammed upwards at the sudden motion and he half cried, half screamed at the feeling, the heat was all consuming, it was molten and vice like; euphoria beyond comprehension._

_John began sliding Sherlock’s cock all the way back out until he got to the very tip again, he held very still, panting and moaning._

 

_'Oh god you’re fucking perfect Sherlock....You feel so fucking good..'_

 

_John’s voice sounded fuzzy and far away to Sherlock, he was drowning, sinking into oblivion, nothing should ever feel this incredible._

_So much data, he drank in every sensation to be catalogued later...Much later._

 

_John clenched around Sherlock’s cock and bent down to sink his sharp teeth into the pale flesh above his racing heart, Sherlock’s head lolled back and he let out a wrecked groan; John sucked on the mark and tasted Sherlock’s blood; the warm coppery liquid that kept Sherlock alive, The taste was still heavy on his tongue as he attacked Sherlock’s mouth, Sherlock growled huskily as he tasted his own blood on his tongue, so bittersweet and downright erotic._

_John pulled back, a scarlet spot of blood still lingered on his bottom lip and he slid his tongue out to clean it away, h_ e kissed Sherlock again; softer this time to counteract the previous brutal kiss; Sherlock moaned into his mouth and wound his long arms around John's neck; he'd never get enough of this feeling; it was raw and intense and made his body sing with undiluted joy.

 

Sherlock was so happy and He was hopelessly in Love with John Hamish Watson. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Kudos and Comments :3


	5. Sins Of The Flesh.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So.
> 
> Much.
> 
> Smut.

 

#  ♢Chapter Five: Sins Of The Flesh♢

 

 

 

_John kept firm eye contact as he slowly ground down onto Sherlock’s cock with a soft groan, he was still fairly open but it burned a little; It was worth every second to watch Sherlock’s face twist with ecstasy; his mouth dropped open with a tight groan as John continued to slowly grind and rock against him._

_Sherlock tried to watch, to admire John's magnificent body moving atop him but finally, he lost the battle and let his eyes roll back, he caught his bottom lip in his teeth and arched his back off the mattress, John cried out as Sherlock pulled out and slid back into him harder than before._

_Sherlock's groan was magnificent, John clung to his shoulders as Sherlock found a steady, hard rhythm._

_Sherlock had a look of intense concentration on his face as he fought against the hot, slick feeling in his abdomen, he lifted his hands from John’s hips and scraped his well-groomed nails down his back; John arched forward and rolled his hips and then Sherlock was seeing stars._

J _ohn lifted his hips to meet Sherlock’s and ground down on every few thrusts, Sherlock let out a broken moan and thrust upwards into John’s willing body; John’s face contorted as Sherlock hit his prostate dead on and a sharp cry flew from his mouth._

 

_'Sh..Sherlock...Ohh, fucking Christ!’_

 

' _John...John.....You feel I_ ncredible.'

 

_Sherlock’s voice was dark and gravely and his breaths came in frenzied bursts against John’s skin; he was trembling and every muscle in his body was corded tightly with ecstasy; he forced his eyes open to look at John at found that it was exactly the worst thing he could have done, John was arched over him with such a look of bliss on his face that it was almost the end of him._

_He could feel John’s erratic pulse through his hot skin; that maddening silver fringe of his was hovering over one eye slightly and his short, sharp breaths made it flutter and shimmer in the light; John’s wonderful body finally devoid of all those hideous jumpers, the smooth tanned skin and the defined muscles made him even more breathless, h_ is lips were parted in a perfect, ‘Oh.’ As Sherlock continued to thrust into _him with slowly building frenzy._

 

_‘Wwait, John...’_

 

_Sherlock took a deep breath and exhaled hard through his nose._

 

' _If you will...Permit me, John, I sense that you like to be in control, but...Will you allow me to try?’_

 

_John’s brain felt disconnected from his body, he was in primal mode and his mind was slowly shutting down, and Sherlock bloody Holmes starts using fancy words he forced himself to slide back and off of Sherlock’s cock; he opened his eyes to look at him; Sherlock whined at the loss of sensation and summoned all his strength to stare pleadingly at John, it was sweet torture as he waited for John to answer._

 

_‘As long as you don’t introduce the contents of the fridge or shoot the wall.’_

 

_A dark chuckle rumbled through Sherlock’s chest._

 

_‘I love you, John Watson.’_

 

_John huffed out a laugh and felt his heart swell, he bent over Sherlock and gave him a breathtaking kiss before he sat back on the bed and watched as Sherlock sprang forward like a panther and tackled him to the bed, he immediately reached between them and gave John’s cock a firm squeeze; Sherlock swallowed John’s moan with a series of deep, messy kisses, their tongues danced and once or twice John licked over the seam of Sherlock’s full bottom lip, Sherlock’s breathing hitched and he pulled back to gaze down at John, he looked so beautiful._

 

_So alive._

_He gently hooked his arms under John’s knees and pulled him back to press against his hard, straining cock, Sherlock’s eyes snapped shut when he felt the heat radiating from John in great waves; he bent down and pressed his lips to his neck, John ached up in response and rocked forward against Sherlock’s cock._

_Sherlock growled and gripped himself with his free hand; a shudder rolled up his spine and make him whimper impatiently, he carefully lined himself up and then slowly pushed into John again, almost at once his body opened up to him and enveloped him once again._

_At this new angle, Sherlock could penetrate John a lot deeper than before; he’d thought John was tight then but it was nothing compared to now. He let out a shuddering gasp and slowly began to work John open; tilting his hips and holding steady against John’s prostate, John’s eyes flew open and a ragged moan ripped through his chest._

 

' _Ohh fuck...Sherlock...’_

 

_John’s voice trailed away as Sherlock began to thrust into him at a punishing pace, he gripped Sherlock’s expensive sheets in his fingers and wrapped his legs around Sherlock’s lower back, all coherent thought had left his mind as his body surged with pleasure; Sherlock’s hot, panting breaths blew over his skin, John gazed up at Sherlock in complete devotion, his dark curls were plastered to his face and neck and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut; his bottom lip was caught in his teeth and his nostrils flared as he slammed his hips forward._

 

_John’s vision was beginning to get hazy around the edges as he fought to keep his eyes open; to hold the glorious image of Sherlock undone forever seared into his retinas; he could feel a damn of pressure building in his abdomen as Sherlock kept up the unrelenting pace; he knew that he was getting closer to release but he never wanted the feeling to end._

_There would be time, he was sure, for sweet, slow lovemaking, for now, there was only frenzy and passion, he was entirely wrapped up in Sherlock, in this moment he knew nothing else.  
_

_Every muscle in Sherlock’s body was beginning to tremble, the heat and tightness was completely overwhelming to his long-neglected body, he couldn’t think of anything else now; the tension coiled within him was beginning to skyrocket as he continued to thrust wildly into John._

 

_Wonderful John._

 

_The man who understood him the most in the world._

 

_Sherlock’s body suddenly tightened as a savage bolt of pleasure shot through him John had tightened around him and suddenly Sherlock felt like he was coming undone at the seams._

 

_'Sh...Sherlock...Please...Touch me...Oh god, Sherlock please!’_

 

_Sherlock wrenched his eyes open to look at John, splayed out beneath him, his golden skin was slick with perspiration and his fists were clenching the sheets so tightly that they were in danger of tearing, he_ _braced his shaking knees and reached down to grasp John’s neglected cock; it was hot and steely under his fingertips, John cried out and bucked his hips desperately into the sensation; this caused him to tighten even more around Sherlock who let out a wrecked moan and threw his head back._

 

_'Sherlock...Oh go, Sherlock I’m...I’m so close...I’m...'_

 

_John was cut off as Sherlock ravaged his mouth, his sharp, witty tongue was everywhere and his lips were bruising, It was Primal and intoxicating and perfect, John responded the best he could as his impending orgasm loomed heavy in his gut;_ _Sherlock was beginning to lose his quick rhythm and his hips were faltering as the very last essence of self control vacated him, his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilation now and the molten hot sensation inside him was beginning to smoulder and catch fire._

 

_‘John I’m....Oh god I’m....’_

 

' _Oh fuck...Me too Sherlock, please...Oh god please...Oh god...SSherlock!!!’_

 

_Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat as the pressure in his gut grew and grew and with a final, devastating crescendo all of the air was expelled from his lungs as he screamed his release, the most exquisite feeling surged through him as he came hard and fast into the quivering tightness, he heard rather than saw John orgasm as his eyes snapped shut as he continued to pulse within him, shuddering and moaning with his face pressed into John’s neck._

 

_John felt as if he was going to shatter into a million pieces as the raw pleasure hit him like a freight train, his whole body seized up and he let out a hoarse roar of ecstasy as he painted Sherlock’s stomach with hot stripes of his cum, he trembled violently as aftershocks wracked his body; all his bones seemed to have vanished._

 

_Sherlock was panting hard above John; his arms were shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright for so long, John opened his eyes to dreamily stare up at Sherlock with a massive grin on his face; he felt dizzy and slightly sore but more than anything he felt that this was exactly where he truly belonged; here with Sherlock in his large, expensive bed with its high end sheets, completely fucked out and sated, he felt so at peace with everything in the world for just a moment as his breathing slowly began to return to normal._

 

_Sherlock’s eyes remained closed as he carefully withdrew from John with a last hiss of pleasure, he fell flat on his back next to John panting and sighing with post orgasm shudders; John feebly reached for his large, sweaty hand and interlaced his fingers with it, Sherlock gave it a light squeeze he turned his head and opened his eyes to look at him._

 

_Never In all his life had he felt so drained yet so satisfied, his usually rampant mind was completely blank as his body continued to jolt in the afterglow of his orgasm; using his free, boneless arm he fumbled blindly for the nightstand and grabbed a wet wipe from a thankfully nearby packet, he handed one to John and they clumsily cleaned themselves up before tossing the wipes in the direction of the trash can._

_Then Sherlock pulled John to lie against his still hammering chest; John flopped happily against him, not even minding Sherlock’s protruding ribs, he was absolutely exhausted and could quite easily have gone to sleep right then and there as Sherlock wrapped a protective arm around his waist and ran his free hand through his sweat drenched hair, the air was thick with their combined scents and he was hovering on the brink of unconsciousness when Sherlock spoke in a deep raw voice._

 

_‘I love you John.’_

 

_Hearing Sherlock speak those four words to him with such a tone of reverence in his rough, tired voice made John’s heart sing, he was dizzy with euphoria and happier than he could ever have thought possible, he settled deeper into Sherlock’s embrace and pressed his lips to his chest, soothing the bite mark above his heart._

 

_There was going to be a lot of questionable marks on Sherlock’s ivory skin and John only hoped that he had some high collared shirts; he of course was sporting his own questionable marks, maybe they could just stay here until they faded; Sherlock felt as though his was sinking into oblivion; John fit so perfectly into his arms, he was warm and so very comfortable; he was content to stay here with John like for as long as he was able._

 

' _I love you too Sherlock...So fucking much.’_

 

_It was quiet but Sherlock heard it, he felt the hot breaths against his chest as John spoke in a hoarse, weak whisper, Sherlock exhaled slowly and tightened his grip around John; he tugged the sheets over them and kissed the top of John’s head as he felt his eyes grow heavy with fatigue, settling back into the pillows, he let his eyes close and drifted peacefully into a deep sleep._

 

_The room was silent now save for the sounds of their slow, relaxed breathing; there was a soft tapping against the window panes as the insidious cloud over 221B broke open and spilled down torrents of hot rain onto the city, the wind picked up and thunder rolled overhead, but it wasn’t enough to rouse either Sherlock or John from their collective slumber._

 

 

 

_The hot summer glare had stained the room with a faint amber light through the heavy curtains, The sun was high in the sky and for once nobody was calling with news of a violent murder, All was silent aside from the fain snoring and relaxed breathing of Sherlock and John, In the night Sherlock had reversed their roles and was now completely splayed across John’s smaller frame, his long, lanky arms were wound around John’s waist and he was drooling slightly onto his chest._

 

_John’s eyelids fluttered and he slowly came around, at once he was aware of Sherlock sprawled across him, he was a lot heavier when he was unconscious, but John couldn’t seem to find the energy to care, he was so warm and comfortable even if he was slowly being crushed to death by the unconscious sleuth, instead he just pulled Sherlock closer to his chest and drifted back to sleep._

 

_When John woke again it was to a crashing realisation, he had to pick up Rosie from Molly’s today, how on earth had he forgotten that he had a very real and probably fussy daughter depending on him?_

 

_He glanced blearily at the alarm on the nightstand and almost choked when he saw the time, Three thirty three in the afternoon, he was due to pick Rosie up in just over an hour!_

 

_‘Oh bloody Christ!’_

 

_He croaked, wondering how best to extract himself from Sherlock’s octopus like embrace, he gingerly shifted to get up but Sherlock just mumbled sleepily and hugged him tighter, as endearing and utterly adorable as this undoubtedly was to John he really didn’t want to cause Molly any more stress._

 

_She was an absolute godsend for offering to care for Rosie whilst he got his shit together and he couldn’t let her down by being late to pick up his own daughter; It seemed Molly had reached her limit with everything Sherlock related and was one step away from a complete meltdown, He didn’t want to be the one to trigger it, he sighed and gently nudged Sherlock._

  

_‘Sherlock....Sherlock.’_

 

_‘Mmmmhhh? G’morning Jawn....’_

  

_Within seconds he was asleep again, John sighed and nudged Sherlock more insistently._

 

' _Sherlock...SHERLOCK.’_

 

_Sherlock Jolted awake with a snort and stared groggily at John._

 

_‘Whashappening Jawn?’_

 

_He mumbled sleepily._

 

 

' _Sherlock I have to get dressed, i have to leave.’_

 

_He instantly regretted his poor choice of words, Sherlock’s eyes went dark and his face descended into lines of misery._

 

_‘No no no no! Sherlock, oh god I’m a twat! I’m coming straight back, I need to go pick up Rosie you daft sod!’_

 

_Sherlock’s face changed at an almost comical speed; his eyes lit up again and a soft smile played at the corners of his mouth, h_ e flopped against John's chest like a pleased cat and John snorted in amusement.

 

_‘And it’s not morning either, it’s getting on for 4 PM, I have to be on time to pick Rosie up or I’ll end up on the slab.’_

  

_Sherlock’s eyes widened._

 

' _It's almost 4 PM and nobody has been to call? Surely crime hasn't disappeared overnight.'_

 

_John rolled his eyes._

 

_‘Well I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, now if you wouldn’t mind, I’m finding it a little uncomfortable with your elbow crushing my solar plexus.’_

 

_Sherlock grinned and rolled off of John onto his stomach; John took in a deep breath as Sherlock’s weight lifted, he felt a little tender in some places but otherwise he’d never felt better, there would be time to talk about last night later on, right now he had to go into dad mode._

_He sat up slowly and stretched his abused muscles; he would definitely need to take a long, hot shower later, his legs felt like jelly as he shakily got to his feet, he realised he was still stark bollock naked and shivered slightly._

_Sherlock watched him from the bed as he stretched out his shoulders and gave a satisfied moan as he did so, he felt his stomach flip as he remembered vivid flashbacks of the night before; he felt a stirring in his gut and realised to his surprise that he was beginning to get hard...He couldn’t remember a time before this that it had ever happened by itself._

 

_Unaware of Sherlock’s ‘not so little problem.’ John hurried out of the room in only his boxers, there came a girly and highly undignified scream from the next room, Sherlock instantly launched himself out of bed; draping the sheet over himself, he jumped over the bed and bolted into the living room._

 

_John had grabbed Sherlock’s coat and covered himself up completely, he was standing by the edge of the sofa with a grim look on his face, turning to see what John was glaring at Sherlock almost jumped out of his skin, He felt any trace of arousal violently leave his body._

 

 

 

_‘MYCROFT!' WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!’_

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for your feedback.
> 
> Kudos and comments are awesome


	6. The Domestic Detective.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John shares a moment with Molly.
> 
> No, not that sort of moment ya perverts.
> 
> Rosie comes home to Baker Street.  
> New beginnings and tooth-rotting sweetness ahead.  
> Sherlock and Mycroft have a little chat and Mrs Hudson is perfect as usual.  
> This is a feel-good chapter which I very much enjoyed writing.  
> I do hope you also enjoy it. xx

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#  _**♢ Chapter Six: The Domestic Detective.♢** _

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_**A smirk was threatening to make its way onto Mycroft’s usually sombre face; he was sitting primly in Sherlock's chair casually flicking through a large broadsheet newspaper and he was looking at the two of them with an increasingly amused expression on his face.** _

 

_**‘Oh dear, I'm not interrupting something am I?'** _

 

_**Mycroft's cool facade nearly broke as he watched John's cheeks turn pink.** _

 

_**‘Exactly how long have you been sitting there Mycroft?’** _

 

_**Asked John out of the corner of his mouth, this was the very last thing he needed right now.** _

__

_**‘Oh, long enough, I assure you.’** _

__

_**Mycroft was definitely smirking now and John just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him, Sherlock was practically gaping at Mycroft who continued to smugly regard the two of them over the edge of his newspaper.** _

 

_**‘Dear dear Sherlock, cat got your tongue?’** _

 

_**Asked Mycroft in a silky voice; John was beginning to think that Mycroft was savouring every second of their discomfort in revenge for the prank he and Sherlock had pulled on him at his house.** _

__

_**‘I don’t mean to be rude.’** _

__

_**Said John in a tone that threatened rudeness with every syllable.** _

 

_**‘But I have to pick up my daughter on time or I’ll end up at the mercy of a very angry mortician.’** _

__

_**Mycroft arched an eyebrow and regarded him coolly.** _

__

_**‘Ah yes, it’s going to be very different around 221B now, isn’t it? 'Do give Miss Hooper my regards won’t you?’** _

 

_**Said Mycroft who was seemingly unperturbed by John’s indignant tone; he turned again to Sherlock who was still staring at him in abject horror, colour was rising in his neck and cheeks and the left corner of his mouth was beginning to twitch with utter mortification.** _

 

_**'Right then...I'll just...'** _

__

_**John trailed off awkwardly and sprinted for the door, he felt a bizarre urge to laugh as he hurried upstairs to dress; he threw open his closet and pawed through mountains of woollen jumpers until he found a thin, light blue shirt, and some three quarter length khakis, In another drawer he grabbed clean socks and boxers; he shrugged out of Sherlock’s heavy coat rather reluctantly; It really was an excellent coat and the intense, decadent smells of Sherlock’s many expensive soaps and colognes swirled pleasantly in his nose.** _

_**He dressed quickly, slipped on some beaten up converse and hurried back down the stairs to the sitting room, Sherlock hadn’t moved; he and Mycroft seemed to be having an intense but nonverbal standoff; Mycroft was sitting with his legs crossed neatly and was delicately sipping from a steaming cup of tea that John hadn't noticed was on the side table when he'd first come in amd his eyes were the only thing that betrayed his amusement.** _

 

_**John thought that Sherlock had suffered enough and decided to give Mycroft a taste of his own medicine, he cleared his throat and Sherlock looked over to where he stood with a pleading look on his angular face; John hitched a lopsided grin on his face and strode over to him;  saying nothing, he stood on his tiptoes and gave Sherlock a sweet and lingering kiss, he pulled back and smiled as he heard Mycroft choke on his Earl Grey.** _

__

_**'I’ll  be home soon love, Try not to destroy the flat or kill each other whilst I’m gone.’** _

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_**He turned to look at Mycroft who had spilt most of his tea down the front of his shirt and waistcoat, he was holding his half-empty china teacup aloft, coughing and gasping as hot tea filled his lungs; John snorted and pulled back from Sherlock who was now smiling wickedly at him, John strolled to the door and picked up his keys, he turned to look at Mycroft who was still coughing violently and looking decidedly flustered.** _

 

_**‘Lovely to see you as always Mycroft!’** _

__

_**He said over his shoulder with a grin, he hurried down the stairs still smirking as the sound of Mycroft's coughs echoed all the way to the front door, he stepped out into the busy outside world, hailed a cab with practised ease and felt his stomach lift at the thought of seeing Rosie again.** _

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_**Mycroft took a gasping breath and tried to compose himself; h e grabbed his handkerchief and mopped at the front of his suit, Sherlock chuckled and flopped down on the sofa, there was a very long pause.** _

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_**‘What?’** _

 

_**Asked Sherlock without looking at his brother.** _

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_**‘I didn’t say anything.’** _

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_**Said Mycroft in a rather hoarse voice.** _

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_**'You were thinking something, probably something scathing and sarcastic, I  can hear you from over here.'** _

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_**Mycroft scowled and cleared his throat, he realized Sherlock was waiting for him to say something and racked his brain for something to say, he was no good at small talk.** _

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_**‘Why are you here Mycroft?’** _

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_**Mycroft was at a loss for words, why had he come here exactly? It was true that he worried for his impossible little brother and indeed he was secretly very fond of him as only an older brother can be, they bickered constantly and insulted each other at every opportunity, but he was pleased that Sherlock and John had found happiness together, he was still searching frantically for something to say, he finally settled on the truth...Or at least some of it.** _

__

_**'Is it so hard to believe that I wanted to see how you were doing?’** _

 

_**He asked in a soft voice.** _

__

_**‘Yes.’** _

 

_**Said Sherlock without missing a beat.** _

__

_**Mycroft sighed patiently and tried to smooth out his tea stained shirt.  
** _

 

_**'I’m happy for you Sherlock .’** _

__

_**Mycroft’s usually austere voice had a softer tone that Sherlock hadn’t heard since childhood; He had a vivid flashback of his forgotten days of innocence; when he’d come home with scuffed knees and Mycroft would distract Sherlock with stories of his own invention whilst he cleaned his wounds, Sherlock snorted but was glad his face was turned to the sofa as a small smile crept onto his face.** _

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_**‘You’re going soft.’** _

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_**He said in an amused voice.** _

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_**Mycroft smiled a little wryly and then chuckled.** _

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_**‘Perhaps I am, but for this, I do believe I can make an exception, you’re my Brother Sherlock, In light of recent events, I now realize now how important you are to me..... If you need anything at all you need only ask....’** _

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_**'Oh please stop, Just, stop talking, you’re being disgusting!’** _

 

_**Sherlock squawked, turning around to face his brother with a horrified look on his face.** _

__

_**Mycroft sat back in Sherlock's chair and placed the folded newspaper on the side table; he gave Sherlock a searching look and then He did something that Sherlock found terrifying yet bizarrely endearing, his usually emotionless expression melted away to be replaced by an intensely amused grin. And then he laughed, really laughed; not that dry little chuckle that he usually did, it echoed around the room and made Sherlock feel strange, it was so bizarre to hear, he had forgotten that his brother was capable of laughter.** _

__

_**His eyebrows disappeared into his unruly curls and he sat up to stare at Mycroft who had apparently gone insane.** _

 

_**‘Oh do be quiet, It’s not decent!’** _

 

_**He grumbled, trying his best not to grin back.** _

__

_**Mycroft  wiped away a tear of laughter and eyed his little brother smugly** _

 

_**‘Oh bugger decency Sherlock, Let me enjoy this moment.’** _

__

_**Sherlock couldn’t keep a smile from slipping onto his face, he shook his head and chuckled.** _

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_**‘You’ve surely gone quite mad.’** _

__

_**Mycroft smiled softly.** _

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_**'Well...Perhaps you're right...But I do not think any of us ever really had a chance of being normal; nor entirely sane.'** _

__

_**Mycroft's eyes locked with Sherlock's and a static energy filled the room.** _

 

_**'As Aristotle would say, there is no great genius.......'** _

__

_**Mycroft arched an eyebrow at his brother, Sherlock huffed out a small laugh and finished the quote as Mycroft knew he would.  
** _

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_**'Without a mixture of madness.'** _

__

_**There was a slightly uncomfortable silence and they looked each other in the eye, something unspoken passed between them that felt suspiciously like a truce. Sherlock's lip quirked up to one side and he distracted himself by making some coffee.** _

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__

_**Mycroft looked up when Sherlock came back with his coffee and sat down in John's chair; he opened his mouth to point out the Elephant in the room but was swiftly cut off.** _

__

_**'Coffee first, talking second.'** _

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_**Mycroft rolled his eyes but stayed silent as Sherlock took a large sip of his coffee and sighed as the caffeine infiltrated his bloodstream, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd forgotten something...And then it hit him, his eyes widened over the rim of his coffee cup and he set it down on the saucer with a slightly shaking hand.** _

__

_**'Oh.'** _

 

_**'You forgot didn't you?'** _

 

_**Sherlock glared daggers at his brother.** _

 

_**'I didn't forget, I was just a little bit distracted by you turning up unannounced and almost giving John a heart attack!'** _

__

_**Sherlock jumped up and almost tripped over his trailing sheet toga, it slipped down his chest and abdomen and he almost flashed Mycroft, Mycroft hurriedly looked away before he saw anything else, he was mentally scarred enough without the image of his naked brother burned into his retinas, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.** _

 

_**'At least change out of that ridiculous bloody sheet!'** _

__

_**Sherlock scowled at him and stalked into his room, he threw open his closet and frantically changed into fresh boxers, a light dress shirt, silk waistcoat and tailored trousers, he slipped on some socks, toed on his oxfords and hurried back into the living room, only one minute and sixty four seconds had passed.** _

__

_**‘You’re getting slower.’** _

 

_**Drawled Mycroft with a smirk.** _

__

_**Sherlock smiled evilly and eyed Mycroft with a sly look.** _

__

_**'And you're getting fatter.'** _

__

 

_**Sherlock chuckled at his brother's scowling face and grinned at him unabashed, Mycroft continued to glare at his brother as he turned away and swept around the room, hurriedly tidying away as many of his 'experiments' as he could, and then he allowed a small smile to slip onto his face, Sherlock grabbed a heavy duty trash bag from under the sink and walked over to the fridge; he opened it a little apprehensively.** _

_**A mixed bag of eyeballs stared back at him from the top shelf, a human brain was floating in a jar in the middle; the salad drawer contained a number of labelled jars filled with human hearts along with Petri dishes harbouring various strains of diseases.** _

_**Sherlock jumped as Mycroft's cry of disgust came from directly behind him.** _

__

_**'William Sherlock Scott Holmes......You........Are truly vile.'** _

__

_**For once, Sherlock agreed with his brother.** _

__

_**'I think you should let some of my people handle the cleaning of this entire kitchen, This is not a room fit for habitation by adults, let alone a baby!'** _

 

_**Sherlock felt a sharp pang of guilt in his heart, He would have to be extremely careful about what was in the kitchen, he'd never forgive himself if Rosie got hurt because he forgot to put away any of the numerous toxic chemicals that were currently strewn across the kitchen table, it was then with abject horror that he remembered that there wasn’t a crib in the flat.....Or anything remotely baby related......He began to panic and jumped when he heard a familiar voice.** _

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_**‘Yoo-hoo, Sherlock, are you in?’** _

__

_**Sherlock felt like his prayers had been answered.** _

__

_**‘Mrs Hudson! The very person I wanted to see....’** _

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_**What on earth was he going to say to her? Oh, hello Mrs Hudson, John will be home with his infant child within the hour and we have no crib or indeed anything necessary to care for a baby.’** _

__

_**Mrs Hudson’s face broke into a knowing smile.** _

 

_**‘Look at you, all flustered about John's little one, I've got something to show you, dear, Follow me please,’** _

 

_**And with that, she trotted out of the room, Mycroft eyed his brother with exasperation and shuddered at the memory of the contents of the fridge; he pulled out his phone and sent a message to his secretary to send over a team to dispose of the various organs and petri dishes and perhaps the fridge too.** _

_**Sherlock snorted as he left the room and found Mrs Hudson slowly descending the stairs muttering about her hip; She turned a smiled at Sherlock and then she unlocked the door to her neat little flat.** _

__

_**Mrs Hudson's home was clean yet cosy, with comfortable armchairs and trinkets on every available surface, she led him through the living room to a room at the end of the hall that Sherlock had never been into., before she opened the mystery door she turned her head and smiled at Sherlock.** _

__

_**‘You know, I was so happy when Mary announced she was going to have a baby and now...Oh, poor Mary.’** _

__

_**She hiccuped and stopped for a second to wipe her eyes on the corner of her cardigan.** _

__

_**‘I can’t explain why, but I just had a terrifying feeling that something awful was going to happen.'** _

__

_**She dabbed her eyes again before straightening up to look Sherlock sternly in the eye.** _

_**  
** _

_**'But we’re family and you’re my boys.** _

__

_**She giggled and stood for a moment smiling at him, before sighing in slight exasperation.** _

__

_**'None of you have any idea what the hell you’re doing do you?’** _

__

_**Sherlock raised his hand to pat her cheek affectionately.** _

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_**‘Not the foggiest idea I'm afraid, oh, my dear Mrs Hudson, whatever would we do without you?’** _

__

_**Mrs Hudson beamed and turned back to the door, she took a key out of her apron pocket and slid it into the lock; the door swung open and Sherlock saw what lay behind it, It in this moment that Sherlock truly believed that Martha Louise Hudson, must be some sort of guardian angel.** _

 

_**The room was small, clearly a storage room, nearly bare and uninteresting; apart from a pretty white wooden crib; complete with a Honeybee mobile and matching blanket embroidered with four tiny bees in each corner and a honeycomb trim, there was also a small plush hedgehog nestled into the blanket that Sherlock found incredibly sweet; there was a Moses basket and a neat pile of at least 100 different baby-grows and tiny shoes.** _

_**Sherlock was overwhelmed with intense affection for this amazing little woman, she was leaning against the door frame and watching him with a fond expression on her dainty, kind face. Sherlock glided over to the door and enveloped her in a tight hug, he kissed the top of her head and patted her on the back, she squeaked in surprise but giggled and put her head on his chest.** _

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_**‘Thank you, Mrs Hudson, once again you have proven yourself a saint, your kindness and compassion know no bounds.’** _

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_**Sherlock found that his eyes were getting rather wet and his words caught slightly in his throat, he was so moved by the thought that she had put into these wonderful gifts.** _

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_**Mrs Hudson burst into joyful tears and pulled back to look at Sherlock, she reached up and cupped his cheek affectionately.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘You are sweet Sherlock, I’m so pleased you like them! I hand knitted that blanket myself and found time to crochet that little hedgehog...Do you think Rosie will like them then?’** _

__

_**Sherlock gently squeezed her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.** _

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_**'I think she's going to be positively thrilled with them.'** _

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_**He pulled back from her embrace and gave her one more affectionate pat on the cheek before he sprang to the door.** _

 

_**'Do excuse me Mrs Hudson, I'll be back in a moment!** _

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_**He called cheerfully over his shoulder.** _

__

_**Sherlock raced from the room leaving Mrs Hudson looking fondly after him.** _

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_**‘Silly old Sherlock.’** _

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_**She said to herself with a warm smile.** _

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_**  
** _

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_**‘Mycroft, I require your immediate assistance!'** _

 

_**Mycroft gave a start and spilt the remains of his tea down his newly dried jacket; he massaged his pounding chest and glared at Sherlock.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘What the bloody hell are you going on about Sherlock? You nearly gave me a heart attack!'** _

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_**'Oh don't be such a drama queen.'** _

_**  
** _

_**Mycroft gave an indignant squawk as Sherlock grabbed him under the armpits and heaved him from his chair.** _

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_**‘I was right, you are getting fatter.....You’ve put on three pounds brother dearest..’** _

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_**He remarked with a cheeky grin.** _

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_**Before Mycroft could angrily retort he was being dragged down the stairs into Mrs Hudson’s flat.** _

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_**'SHERLOCK! WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? UNHAND ME AT ONCE!'** _

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_**Yelled Mycroft indignantly as Sherlock continued to frogmarch him down the hallway.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘Oh do be quiet, I assure you this is necessary.’** _

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_**Said Sherlock in a cheery voice.** _

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_**Mrs Hudson gave a start as Sherlock returned dragging a very bedraggled and indignant Mycroft by the collar of his tea stained jacket, Mycroft finally managed to shove Sherlock off and retreated to stand by Mrs Hudson, glaring daggers at his brother.** _

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_**‘Would you mind explaining why you manhandled me into your Landlady's spare room?’** _

 

_**He asked in an icy voice.** _

__

_**Sherlock grinned and waved a hand around the room.** _

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_**‘It’s like I said, I required your assistance, John as you so kindly reminded me...'** _

 

_**Sherlock paused to glare at Mycroft.** _

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_**'Will shortly be home with Rosie and there isn’t anything in our flat for her, Mrs Hudson here has kindly provided us with all the necessary things we need.'** _

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_**He paused again and dramatically spread his arms wide, gesturing at all of Rosie's new things; then fixed Mycroft with an amused expression.** _

_**  
** _

_**'But we can’t expect dear Mrs Hudson to carry all these heavy things upstairs, it wouldn't be very chivalrous of us now wouldn't it?’** _

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_**Mycroft glared at Sherlock with intense irritation before glancing appraisingly around the small room, he felt a warm smile creep onto his face.** _

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_**‘Indeed Mrs Hudson, you have outdone yourself.’** _

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_**He turned back to Sherlock and scowled at him.** _

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_**‘You know, you could have just asked me, Sherlock.’** _

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_**He said in a disapproving but slightly amused voice.** _

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_**Sherlock chuckled and ruffled his hair almost absentmindedly.** _

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_**‘Yes, well, there wasn’t time.’** _

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_**Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.** _

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_**'Before we continue, I dispatched a team to come clean up that horror show that you call a kitchen, you do after all wish for John's daughter to be safe.'** _

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_**Sherlock frowned and resisted the urge to insult his brother.** _

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_**'Of course I want Rosie to be safe, but tell your people that they're there to clean, not to snoop.'** _

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_**Mycroft rolled his eyes at Sherlock and glanced back at the stacks of baby clothes and nursery furniture.** _

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_**‘Well then...Let’s get this over with then with shall we?’** _

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_**John arrived at Molly's flat with two minutes to spare; he’d had to traverse the beginning of the rush hour traffic and was growing tense as the minutes ticked by on his watch, he paused for breath outside her door and then knocked three times, frst, there was nothing and then a figure appeared at the frosted glass and then Molly Hooper opened the door.** _

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_**She looked slightly better than he’d seen her since Sherrinford; there was a little more colour to her cheeks and her dark eyes didn't seem so hollow anymore, maybe she’d finally accepted that she never had a chance with Sherlock.** _

_**It made John's gut twist with guilt as she hitched a tired smile on her thin face and gestured for him to come in, holding a finger to her chapped lips, John closed the door as softly as he could and pulled Molly into a tight hug, e rested his chin on her shoulder and stroked her back.** _

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_**'You’re a bloody star, Molly.’** _

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_**He whispered into her hair.** _

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_**Molly chuckled softly, noting that John smelled strongly of Sherlock's cologne, she smiled sadly into his shoulder and was pleased that he couldn't see her face, she had had her suspicions for some time now but she had always shoved them to the back of her mind.** _

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_**'Can't win em all.'** _

 

_**She thought sadly, she decided she was being selfish and gently patted John's back, as he pulled away she did her best to compose her face into a smile and was rather pleased that she managed to do so.** _

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_**‘Oh it’s no trouble, she’s been perfect today, I've just settled her in her car seat, do you need to call a cab?’** _

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_**‘Honestly molly, If you need anything, just ask, I’m serious and no, the cabbie’s waiting outside.'** _

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_**John grinned and gave Molly's arm an affectionate squeeze** _

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_**'He's waiting quietly under pain of death, If he wakes Rosie up you might just see him on your mortuary slab.'** _

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_**Molly giggled and hugged John again, feeling better than she had in months, she had always known that she never truly had a chance with Sherlock, but The truth still stung, although, with time she was certain that it would simply become a dull ache in her chest that she must learn to live with; she could never be angry with John, he was sweet, loyal and he had a heart of gold.** _

_**He'd been through so much and he deserved to be happy; her bitterness towards Sherlock seemed almost petulant to her at this point. The game was over and John had won.** _

__

_**But now that Little Rosie had come into her life, with her chubby little arms and legs and clever little face, she felt all of her anger melt away to be replaced with a fierce and soothing love for the little girl that John had entrusted her with and she would protect her with everything she had, she was able to take the gnawing emptiness inside of her and fill it with everything Rosie related; her usual boring shopping list and her mortuary reports that were once so mundane and routine had been replaced by endless visits to Amazon and Mamas and papas to buy new things for Rosie and she felt entirely at peace with her lot in life.** _

 

_**Sherlock was, more often than not, completely selfish, volatile and self-destructive, but he still deserved peace, if that meant that he would be forever off limits to her she would endure and soldier on.** _

_**  
** _

_**For Rosie.** _

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_**John smiled at Molly and patted her shoulder affectionately before straightening up and shuffling his feet awkwardly.** _

_**  
** _

_**I’d love to stay and catch up but I know you’re probably dying to relax and I should really get Rosie home.’  
** _

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_**He grinned as he said his daughter's name.** _

__

_**Molly gestured with her hand for him to follow her into her living room, there she was, tiny and pink and absolutely perfect, tucked tightly in a blanket with a woollen hat, only her cherubic little face peeked out; looking so peaceful and beautiful that John felt an intense urge to coo.** _

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_**He suppressed the urge however because he knew very well that the perfect little girl could transform into a screaming nightmare if she was woken up early, Molly smiled and tucked the blanket closer around her face.** _

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_**‘She’s just gorgeous isn’t she?’** _

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_**She whispered with a soft look in her eyes.** _

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_**‘She really, really is.’** _

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_**Said John thickly, he gently picked up the car seat and turned to give Molly's shoulder a squeeze.** _

__

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_**‘You know where we are.’** _

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_**He whispered with a tender smile.** _

_**  
** _

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_**'Bring her back soon.'** _

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_**Said Molly with a wide, genuine smile that made her whole face light up, only when John had left her house, did Molly's smile falter and then disappear.** _

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__

 

_**Getting Rosie strapped in went a lot better than he thought it would; he had spent hours and hours practising it before she was born and he managed not to jostle her, h slid into the cab and leaned forward to speak to the driver.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘If you get me where I need to go without waking my daughter up, I’ll give you a £20 tip.'** _

__

_**Needless to say, John reached Baker Street as silently as the grave; he tipped the cabbie and hurried into the flat, he took special care on the creaky stairs, he tiptoed into the room and paused in shock, the living room and kitchen were pristine.  
** _

_**He’d been gone no longer than an hour and he had been sure that the day before Sherlock had conducted an absolutely foul experiment involving Human toes and some hazardous looking chemicals, there was also an absolutely spotless corner of the living room that had been turned into a makeshift nursery, there was a beautiful crib and stacks of baby clothes in neat piles, There was also a changing table and a number of soft toys scattered around, John opened his mouth to speak but no sound escaped, he simply gaped in astonishment, He peered into the kitchen and found Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and Mycroft all having tea at the table.** _

_**A table that was now devoid of any grizzly experiments; there was instead, black place-mats and in the centre of the table, there was a large bunch of pink roses in a graduated cylinder that rested on top of a neat lace doily, Mrs Hudson spotted him first and cooed softly, hopping up from her chair and hurrying over to get a better look at Rosie.** _

_**Sherlock stiffened in his chair and Mycroft stared at his interlaced fingers, feeling very much out of place, John stared in amazement at the three of them and felt his eyes grow wet, he smiled warmly and put the car seat down on the changing table; he very carefully extracted the sleeping girl from the harness.** _

_**He gently cradled her with slightly shaking hands and set her down in her new crib, tucking the soft woollen blanket around her, he stepped back and grinned down at her, Sherlock got up and padded over to stand next to John.** _

__

_**‘She’s...’** _

 

_**John trailed off.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘She’s brilliant.’** _

__

_**Said Sherlock softly.** _

__

_**John smiled and put his head on Sherlock’s shoulder; he didn’t know how long they stood there, just gazing down at the amazing little human, Sherlock wrapped an arm around John and smiled at the tiny creature with a newfound fondness, It was strange, strange how someone so tiny could have such a powerful hold over everyone who met her.** _

__

_**John cleared his throat quietly and turned his head to thank Mrs Hudson and even Mycroft but he found that they were no longer in the room.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘How long will she sleep? Has she been fed and changed?’** _

__

_**Murmured Sherlock; he pulled John into a full body hug and wrapped his arms around his lower back, John leaned in and pressed his cheek into Sherlock's chest.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘Molly’s a star, she’s all set for at least a five-hour nap, fed and changed.....What a woman.’** _

__

_**Sherlock chuckled and lifted John's chin so he could look at him.** _

_**  
** _

_**'I missed you while you were gone......How could you leave me alone with Mycroft?'** _

_**  
** _

_**John just smiled and turned his head to kiss Sherlock's palm, Sherlock made a soft noise in the back of his throat and leaned down to capture John's lips in a sweet, lingering kiss; John moaned in surprise and gripped Sherlock's shoulders for support; he pulled back slowly and cleared his throat; he felt it would be inappropriate to do go any further into this territory in front of his sleeping daughter, Sherlock seemed to have read his mind and pulled him towards his room by his hand.** _

__

_**John softly closed the door with his free hand and smiled at Sherlock; Sherlock grinned back and wound his arm around John's waist again, he pulled his flush to his chest and kissed him tenderly, John moaned against his mouth and wrapped his arms around his shoulders; they held there for maybe a minute, just kissing and savouring the sweet moment until Sherlock nipped John's bottom lip and swept his tongue over the bite soothingly, John positively mewled and laced his fingers in Sherlock’s dark curls.** _

_**Sherlock growled and walked John backward to the bed; he felt the mattress at the back of his knees and allowed himself to fall back into the soft pillows, he was on him like a flash, straddling his hips and swooping down to kiss his neck, John was barely able to take a breath before Sherlock began to ravage his skin with lips, tongue and teeth; he closed his eyes at the rush of sensations coursing through him.** _

_**Sherlock was bolder than last night and seemed much more sure of himself this time around, he allowed him to attack his neck and bucked his hip up into Sherlock’s, hot bolts of pleasure shuddered up his spine and he groaned unconsciously, Sherlock gasped and began to tug at John's shirt, he huffed impatiently and ripped it open, sending buttons flying everywhere.** _

_**John found in the heat of the moment that he didn’t even care, Sherlock would get him a new one anyway, He slid the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it onto the floor; Sherlock huffed out a breath against the naked skin of John's collarbone, John bit his lip and let out a shaky moan, Sherlock’s mouth was truly sinful, his hot breath ghosted down to his shoulder, he twitched involuntarily as Sherlock kissed the marred flesh of his shoulder.** _

 

_**He let out a gasp and closed his eyes at the feeling, he hated the ugly reminder of why he was sent home from the war, he didn’t even like to look at it and now here Sherlock was placing butterfly kisses on the damaged flesh; he let out a desperate sob at the touching gesture and blew out a breath as Sherlock traced the edges of the entrance wound with his tongue, John felt his eyes roll back even though they were closed, His skin was ablaze with desire.** _

__

_**He scraped his nails down Sherlock’s silk covered back and pulled at the front of his waistcoat, Sherlock quickly stripped it away along with his dress shirt, he needed to feel John's skin against his own, he descended on John again, this time claiming his lips in a hot, deep kiss that melted his bones and made his abdomen tighten, he could feel Sherlock’s desire straining against his stomach and looked up at him with hungry eyes.** _

__

__

_**‘Strip.’** _

__

_**Sherlock pulled back in surprise, obviously not expecting John's commanding tone, he pulled back to look at John with a questioning look on his face, John smirked and decided to test out a theory he had about what Sherlock might be into, he looked Sherlock dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow at him.** _

__

__

_**‘That’s an order.’** _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated. :)


	7. Frenzy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody say smut?
> 
>  

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#  _** ♢Chapter Seven♢ ** _

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#  _** ♢Frenzy♢ ** _

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__

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_**Sherlock chuckled and sprang up from the bed with cat-like agility; his eyes were dark and ravenous and his whole body was trembling, he very slowly undid the button on his slacks and made a show of pulling down the zipper, John groaned and cupped himself through his trousers.** _

_**Sherlock gave a wicked smirk and slipped his fingers into the waistband and slowly shucked out of the restrictive cloth, he was wonderfully hard against his black silk boxers, and there was a wet patch staining at the tip, John's mouth watered and he took a deep breath to steady himself.** _

__

_**‘Those too.’** _

__

_**He breathed, sliding his hand over the fastenings of his own trousers; he lifted his hips and pulled trousers down, kicking them off hurriedly, Sherlock moaned as he saw John's cock straining against the restrictive fabric, he resisted the urge to rush forward and ravage him, he hooked his shaking fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled teasingly at the soft material, John huffed impatiently and palmed himself slowly.** _

__

_**‘Do I have to repeat myself?’** _

__

_**He growled, staring intently at Sherlock.** _

__

_**Sherlock smirked and slowly slipped the silk boxers down over his hips and stepped out of them to stand completely naked before John, he gasped as the chilly evening air hit his cock; he held very still and closed his eyes waiting for further instruction.** _

__

_**‘Look at me Sherlock.’** _

__

_**Said John in the same commanding tone.** _

__

_**Sherlock wrenched his eyes open to look at John; he was distractedly palming himself through his alarmingly red boxer shorts.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘Come here.’** _

__

_**Growled John, beckoning with a finger, Sherlock took a deep breath and then did as he was told, it was difficult to walk with such an intense erection and he felt a little silly as he reached John, John, however, didn’t seem to mind.** _

__

_**‘Undress me...That's an order.’** _

__

_**He purred, grinning fiendishly up at him, Sherlock chuckled darkly and crawled up the bed to comply; he gripped John's hips and hooked his thumbs under the white waistband of the red boxer shorts.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘Look at me while you do it.’** _

__

_**Said John in a rough voice; he was barely keeping himself under control but he needed to prove his theory, he wanted to prove that Sherlock Holmes, had a raging military kink, he would have to wear his full uniform as a distraction at some point in the near future.** _

_**Sherlock let out a breath and locked his eyes with John as he stripped away the tight boxers and got the privilege of watching John's face twist as his cock sprang free, John caught his bottom lip in his teeth and gasped at the feeling of relief and the cool air on his hypersensitive skin, he forced himself to keep his eyes on Sherlock’s as he tried to form a sentence.** _

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_**‘Touch me, Sherlock.’** _

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_**He said with a breathy growl.** _

__

_**Sherlock surged forward and wrapped a hand around the straining column of flesh, John's face contorted and his eyes flew shut.** _

__

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_**‘Fuck!’** _

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_**John whimpered, he gasped as Sherlock began to stroke him; his hips bucked forward and he let out a soft groan as he swept his thumb over the sensitive head to spread the clear liquid, John's eyes rolled back and he gasped again, reaching out blindly for Sherlock and wrapped his hand around his neglected cock, Sherlock grunted in surprise and strained his hips forward into the sensation, hesqueezed John's cock and let out a muffled growl.** _

__

_**'Your'e amazing...John Watson, simply a........'** _

__

_**His voice choked off as John added a twist to every upwards stroke, he groaned deep in his throat and pushed himself forward to kiss John hard; he tugged at John's bottom lip and swallowed his surprised moan, John pulled away gasping as Sherlock stroked him with more force than before; his eyes slipped shut and he whimpered.** _

__

_**‘Sherlock...Sherlock...I need......’** _

__

_**‘What do you need John?’** _

__

_**Rumbled Sherlock, continuing to stroke him teasingly.** _

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_**‘I.........I......’** _

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_**Sherlock chuckled darkly.** _

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_**‘Do you want me, John? Do you want to take me? Mark me? Make me yours?’** _

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_**John groaned into his arm and quivered at Sherlock’s filthy words.** _

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_**'Yes...Sherlock...I want you.....Christ, I want you.’** _

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_**Sherlock grinned like a predator and pulled away from John, who whimpered at the loss of sensation.** _

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_**'How would you like me, John?’** _

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_**Purred Sherlock, his eyes were glittering with lust now, he sat back on his knees in front of John and waited for him to speak.** _

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_**‘Jesus Sherlock....’** _

__

_**John took a deep breath and stared up at Sherlock.** _

__

_**‘I want to see you.’** _

__

_**He breathed, forcing himself to also sit up, Sherlock considered this for a moment and grinned impishly at John.** _

__

_**‘Pass me that pillow John if you wouldn’t mind.’** _

__

_**John stared blankly at him for a few seconds until he understood, he groaned and practically threw the pillow at Sherlock, Sherlock stretched out on the large bed and raised his hips to position the pillow under them; John huffed out a moan as Sherlock laid himself out like an erotic tableau, he stared up at John from under his half-lidded eyes and arched an eyebrow at him.** _

__

_**John quickly scanned the nightstand until he saw the small bottle of clear liquid; he swallowed thickly and reached over to pick it up, It had been a long time since he last had sex with another man but he was at least a very good Doctor, he knew how to stretch Sherlock without causing him injury; there would be some minor discomfort but he knew every nerve in the human body and was confident Sherlock would love it.** _

_**He blew out a breath and flipped open the lid and poured a good amount into his palm; he set the bottle down on the bed with his free hand and then liberally coated his fingers with the slick substance, Sherlock let out a nervous breath and locked his eyes with John's.** _

__

_**‘If you want me to stop at any time just tell me, Sherlock, this can be quite overwhelming but if done right it can feel amazing.’** _

__

_**Sherlock shifted on the pillow and John moaned as his cock bobbed with the motion, he leaned over Sherlock using his free hand and used the other to gently stroke his cock, Sherlock eyes closed again and he bucked up into the slick feeling; John lightly squeezed it at the base making Sherlock arch and moan, he released his cock and gently slid his hand down to cup his balls; he gasped and bit his plush lip to silence himself.** _

__

_**‘Is it okay if I go lower Sherlock?’** _

__

_**John asked in an unsteady whisper, he was so desperate to continue, Sherlock let out a shaky breath and nodded a little nervously, John swept his fingertips down the cleft of Sherlock’s shapely arse and shuddered as he felt the heat radiating from Sherlock’s most intimate area, Sherlock jumped a little but then let out a gasp and John's fingertips brushed over his hole; It wasn’t unpleasant, just a little strange; he gasped again when John repeated this action a few more times before pressing a finger gently to the tight opening, John squeezed his eyes shut at the hot pressure against his fingertip and a deep groan rumbled through his chest.** _

__

_**‘Talk to me, Sherlock. Tell me what you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.’** _

 

_**Sherlock searched his vast brain for something to say but was only able to moan and rock against John's finger; John felt like he’d been punched in the gut by a hot jolt of pleasure, he growled and pressed a little more firmly against the warm opening.** _

__

_**‘Remember to breathe Sherlock, I’ll be gentle.’** _

__

_**Murmured John, trying to get his own breathing under control, Sherlock smiled warmly up at him and took a deep, shaky breath, John re-positioned himself a little better and then he gently pressed a slick finger into Sherlock.** _

__

_**Sherlock hissed and then shuddered as his virgin muscles clenched around the unfamiliar intrusion; he blew out a harsh breath and forced himself to relax, then he focused on John's face and bit his lip, John's eyes slipped closed for a second and his face tensed; Sherlock was insanely tight around his finger; he could feel every muscle tensing and flexing and it made him huff out a rich groan.** _

__

_**‘Mm...More John, I think I’m ready.’** _

__

_**Stammered Sherlock through his clenched teeth.’** _

__

_**'Not yet.’** _

__

_**Breathed John in a tight voice.** _

__

__

_**‘I’m going to do this properly Sherlock; I don’t want to hurt you okay?’** _

__

_**Sherlock huffed impatiently but then relaxed again.** _

__

_**John slowly withdrew the finger and then slid it back inside; this time aiming towards the sensitive bundle of nerves, Sherlock tensed and let out a surprised and hurriedly stifled moan, he bit into his fist to stop himself being too vocal but it was so difficult; the spark of savage pleasure careened down his spine and pooled low in his stomach.** _

__

_**‘Ahhh...John....Oh god John....Please....Do that again....Ahhaaahh....Mmmmph.’** _

__

_**John had swooped down and captured Sherlock’s lips in a crushing kiss; partly to shut him up and partly to vent his own passion.** _

__

__

_**‘Now John...Now.’** _

__

__

_**Stammered Sherlock between kisses, John moaned into Sherlock’s gasping mouth and slowly added a second finger, John could practically taste the groan that rippled through Sherlock’s chest; he pressed himself shamelessly onto John's fingers, too far gone to care about propriety, John slowly and smoothly pressed the two fingers in and out, focusing on loosening Sherlock’s tight muscles.** _

_**Soon enough, Sherlock was positively writhing under John as he diligently worked him open; John chose this moment to crook his fingers against Sherlock’s prostate again and watched in satisfaction as Sherlock tensed up and then shuddered in ecstasy, John felt it was time to add another finger and pressed it against the other two, not sliding it in, just waiting for Sherlock to consent, Sherlock nodded at John, incapable of speech and John pressed in.** _

__

_**Sherlock let out a salacious groan and canted his hips against the new addition; it burned ever so slightly; his eyes watered a little but then John would tilt his fingers and brush against that special place inside him that made his cock pulse with unbidden desire.** _

__

_**‘You’re so fucking perfect Sherlock.’** _

__

_**John growled, rocking his own hips forward into the small space between them; he bent to seal his mouth over Sherlock's and pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth, Sherlock was in heaven; he savoured the influx of new sensory information, his whole body was aching with need and he was powerless against John's intoxicating ministrations, he whimpered as he felt himself stretch some more; he clung to John's shoulders and clenched his eyes shut as shocks of pleasure coursed through him.** _

_**John patiently worked Sherlock open until at last he felt it was safe to proceed; not only from the perspective of a lover but also from a licensed physician, Sherlock was at this point biting his lips hard enough to draw blood and his nostrils flared as he continued to press back onto John's fingers.** _

__

_**‘John...I think I’m ready now...Nngh, please John.’** _

__

_**John let out a decadent moan and gently withdrew his fingers from Sherlock who moaned in protest and stared pleadingly at him, hesat back and picked up the lube once more, he poured a little more than was necessary onto his shaking hand and let out a tortured groan as he slicked his heated fist over his long-suffering cock.** _

__

_**Sherlock craned his neck to watch as John touched himself and finally understood what John found so erotic about watching him do the same, seeing John wrap his slick fingers around his thick cock and watching as he gasped when he caressed the head on a rough downward stroke...Was fucking delicious...Obscene to the highest degree.** _

__

_**‘John.’** _

__

_**He had never wanted anyone so badly before in his whole entire life, John would be his first and only lover, a possessive haze descended over his already fogged brain; He roughly grabbed John's shoulders and pulled him down for a savage kiss, he bucked his hips against John's cock and he cried out as their erections rubbed together.** _

_**John groaned and pushed back into the wonderful pressure of their combined flesh; Sherlock whimpered and raised his hips higher so John's cock brushed against his slick entrance, John had to lean over Sherlock and clenched the edge of a pillow in his teeth to muffle his desperate moan, Sherlock stretched his long legs around John's waist and rocked more insistently against his straining cock.** _

_**John growled into the plush pillow and pressed his eyes closed, unable to tolerate more than one sensation at a time, ohn lifted Sherlock’s hips slightly to improve the position, he could feel Sherlock’s entire body quivering with anticipation; he took a very deep breath and cupped Sherlock’s flushed cheek.** _

__

_**‘I want to see you love.’** _

__

_**He purred hotly against Sherlock’s pale neck, Sherlock slowly forced his eyes back open to stare lovingly up at John, he was desperate for John to take him; he wanted to watch his face as he slid inside of him, It was filthy and base but he didn’t want it any other way.** _

__

_**‘Ready Sherlock?’** _

__

_**Breathed John who was now feeling a little nervous himself, he really didn’t want to hurt Sherlock and he only hoped he could control himself, John was something of a beast in bed but he thought he could keep himself together for Sherlock, Sherlock took a deep, calming breath and locked his arms around John's shoulders.** _

__

__

_**‘Yes, John...I’m ready.'** _

__

_**John huffed nervously and grasped himself firmly at the base; he gently lowered his hips and pressed lightly against Sherlock’s entrance, and a filthy moan punched its way out of John's throat as the head of his cock was met with consuming heat.** _

__

_**‘Sherlock.....Can I?’** _

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_**'Do it, John....Please...Fuck me.’** _

__

__

_**John needed no further motivation, he steadied himself on his free arm and braced his knees as he gave himself another teasing squeeze, then he painstakingly lined himself up against the astonishing heat and pushed in ever so slightly; Sherlock let out a whimper; somewhere on the edge of pleasure and pain, John was much thicker than his fingers and the burning intensified with each second making him tense up.** _

__

_**John's face twisted almost into a grimace as Sherlock enveloped the thick head of his cock and again, he had to bury his face in the sheets and sink his teeth into the pillow a deep, hungry groan reverberated through his chest as Sherlock clenched around him.** _

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_**‘JJohhn...wwh...wait...I...I need a minute.’** _

__

_**John nearly moaned in frustration but mentally chastised himself for doing so, this was only possible if both parties found it enjoyable and he had made a promise to Sherlock not to cause him any unnecessary pain; he stayed as still as he could manage and blew out a harsh breath through his nose as Sherlock adjusted to the stretch.** _

_**Sherlock began to experimentally rock his hips forward, taking in maybe an inch more of John who cried out into Sherlock’s shoulder, he silently begged Sherlock to let him move, his hips were now shaking violently as he attempted to hold back from Thrusting forward into the quivering heat.** _

__

_**‘Now...John...I think I’m ready.’** _

__

_**Said Sherlock through clenched teeth, John growled and eagerly pressed himself deeper into Sherlock, Sherlock let out a wrecked moan against John's neck; he felt as if he were being split in two in the most wonderful way, the burning was slowly ebbing away to reveal an incredibly pleasant sensation; Sherlock lifted his hips higher and almost screamed as John's cock jolted against his prostate, his once-flagging erection was standing at full attention against his tense stomach.** _

_**John roughly bit into the skin of Sherlock’s elegant neck as he finally seated himself fully into him; his eyes rolled back in his head and he opened his mouth in a silent scream; after what seemed like an eternity, John began to slowly rock into Sherlock with still shuddering hips, there was no way to describe the intensity of the feeling; how deliciously tactile it was; so tight to the point it was unbearable, this would pass quickly and soon he would be able to move more freely, Sherlock whimpered as John continued to stretch him open until he was smoothly sliding in and out with almost no resistance now.** _

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_**‘Christ Sherlock.’** _

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_**Growled John in a tight voice; every fibre of his being was telling him to abandon his ragged control and pound Sherlock into oblivion but again he was too concerned for Sherlock’s well-being, he didn’t want to ruin his first time; Sherlock cried out as John snapped his hips a little harder against his own and his mouth fell open as he felt all the traces of discomfort melt away into pure pleasure, he greedily pushed himself against John but groaned in frustration as he kept losing his angle.** _

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_**‘John...wait.’ he gasped breathlessly, stilling against his hips.** _

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_**John snarled impatiently and waited with bated breath for Sherlock to explain himself.** _

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_**‘I know that you want me to look you in the eyes whilst we make love....But for the sake of heightened sensation...For both of us....May I suggest a change in position?’** _

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_**John's eyes widened and then he groaned as he slowly withdrew from Sherlock, instantly missing the intense sensation on his tortuously sensitive cock, he frowned slightly at him and raised an eyebrow; Sherlock slipped out from under John and turned over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his forearms, he positioned his hips over the pillow and shamelessly displayed himself for John’s viewing pleasure.** _

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_**John gave a desperate growl and arched himself over Sherlock, bracing his legs on the mattress; he snaked an arm around Sherlock’s thin waist and used his free hand to rub himself against his slick hole, Sherlock let out a breathy moan and pushed his ass wantonly against John's steely length; John hovered for a moment to catch his breath and then he gently sunk into the impossible heat; he lunged forward and sucked a purple mark into Sherlock’s creamy shoulder, then bit down with a growl as he buried himself deeper into the exquisite tightness.** _

_**  
** _

_**‘Fuck, I love you.’** _

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_**John moaned into the nape of Sherlock’s neck.** _

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_**Nngh...John...John...I love you too...Ggghhaaah!’** _

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_**John had just slammed himself hard against Sherlock’s prostate and his vision was bleached white as a rising pressure seared through his entire body, he was in serious danger of losing all control over himself as Sherlock writhed and moaned under him, their bodies were now slick with perspiration and he could practically taste the testosterone seeping from their pores.** _

__

__

_**‘SSherlock....Sherlock, oh god I can’t....Too fucking good...You feel too fucking good....Ah!'** _

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_**John's vision went dark as Sherlock ground hard against his cock and rolled his hips to push himself deeper. John let out a snarl and snapped his hips forward roughly, relishing Sherlock’s sob of pleasure as he nailed his prostate again and again; Sherlock could feel the tension building in his abdomen, beginning to coil and white within him, he never wanted this glorious sensation to end and he was now nothing more than an incoherent wreck as John slammed into him over and over again.** _

__

_**He was murmuring sweet words into his shoulder punctuated by growls and breathy moans, Sherlock crushed the sheets in his fists and arched his back as John peppered his neck with hot kisses; all too soon he felt the tell-tale signals of his impending orgasm, he clenched his teeth and warred internally with his self-control, desperately trying to stave off the inevitable.** _

__

_**John's moans were becoming steadily more high pitched and his breathing more erratic, he kissed the top of Sherlock's spine and inhaled the wonderful scent of his skin; he could feel his whole body begin to tremble as Sherlock enveloped him over and over again.** _

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_**“John.....Oh, Christ John...I think I’m....I think Im....Aaah!'  
** _

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_**Sherlock broke off as John pounded harder into him, beginning to growl roughly in his ear.** _

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_**‘John.’** _

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_**Sherlock's voice was muffled against the sheets, he was unable to hold himself up anymore due to his shaking limbs, he clamped the edge of a pillow in his teeth and cried out as a molten hot feeling spread through his groin, John made a completely undecipherable noise and buried his face in Sherlock's neck as he felt the swell of impending release.** _

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_**His whole body seized up and then he was spilling himself into Sherlock with a strangled, agonised shout, his vision went white as he heard Sherlock's bone-shaking groan pierce the air; he tightened so violently around John's cock that John had to cram his fist into his mouth to muffle his ragged scream, he felt as if he was going faint as his orgasm ripped through him like a hurricane, he collapsed onto Sherlock’s trembling back and shuddered as aftershocks continued to pulsate through his body.** _

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_**Sherlock let out a stated groan as John fell onto him panting heavily and moaning gently against his neck, then he carefully pulled out of him making Sherlock wince slightly; John collapsed on his back and closed his eyes, Sherlock did the same, casually tossing the sodden pillow onto the floor for later disposal, he felt intensely happy and at peace with the world, slightly sore but utterly exhilarated.** _

__

_**At the same time, he was more exhausted than he’d been for a long time and he could feel his eyelids beginning to droop, he felt a warm weight flop against his chest and opened one eye to see John snuggling against him with a content and dreamy look on his face.** _

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_**‘Fucking love you.’** _

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_**Muttered John sleepily, gazing up at Sherlock with a lopsided smile, he started drawing random patterns across his chest and Sherlock huffed out a tired laugh as John's fingertips tickled his skin.** _

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_**‘Fucking love you too.’** _

__

_**Sherlock chuckled in a deep, rumbling voice.** _

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_**John smiled against his skin and kissed the vibrant bite mark over his heart.** _

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_**‘Rosie will be awake soon.’** _

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_**Mumbled John doing his best to stay conscious.** _

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_**‘Hmm, in approximately two and a half hours I expect.’** _

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_**Said Sherlock not opening his eyes and opted for carding his fingers through John's sweaty hair.** _

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_**‘Mmm, S’nice.’** _

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_**Mumbled John, leaning into Sherlock’s hand, he felt like he was floating, wonderfully sated and comfortable, his eyes were becoming heavy as Sherlock ran his fingers through his hair, It was so relaxing, just laying against Sherlock's thin frame in companionable silence.** _

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_**‘Don’t worry John, I’ve set my internal alarm clock; it seems only practical we recharge while we can.’** _

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_**John chuckled softly and grinned up at Sherlock.** _

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_**‘Oh trust me, If Rosie wakes up half the street will know.’** _

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_**Sherlock smiled and pulled John closer to him, inhaling his wonderful scent; he yawned widely and continued to absentmindedly stroke John's hair, approximately half a minute later a soft snore broke the silence; Sherlock smiled softly and let out a contented sigh;he really could get used to the warm weight of John's sleeping body draped over him, Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed happily, soon enough he was falling, drifting, into blissful, untroubled sleep.** _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos keep me writing :)


	8. Getting Clean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry for the pun name; this chapter was hard to name without sounding cheesy so I thought a (7% solution pun would work pretty well.
> 
>  
> 
> But I digress.
> 
>  
> 
> Heres some more DomesticLock and a healthy dose of shower smut to make up for the pun title.

 

 

#  ♢Chapter Eight♢

# ♢Getting Clean♢

 

 

 

John awoke to a quiet atmosphere, he gently stretched and opened his eyes, It was almost dark in the dingy attic room; he also realised with disappointment that he was alone in the bed, his next more jarring thought was of Rosie; it had to have been more than two hours since he went to sleep; he rolled over and almost fell out of bed in a hurry to get down to the living room.

He remembered he was naked and flipped on the bedside lamp to see into his still open closet; he hurriedly threw on some ratty old lounge pants, fresh boxers and a thin, striped long sleeve t-shirt, he didn’t bother with socks because it was still fairly warm even at night, he padded over to the door and opened it; he could hear low, hushed voices in the room below.

He took the stairs two at a time and came to a halt outside the living room door, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door, he was completely unprepared for the scene that met his eyes, his jaw hit the floor and his eyes just about fell out of their sockets.

Sherlock was sitting up in his chair with Rosie cradled in his arms with a tea towel draped over one shoulder; he was talking softly to her and feeding her from a small bottle with a look of intense affection on his face....And something else...Something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on...Almost reverence...It took John's breath away.

 

‘I thought you didn’t like children.’

 

Murmured John, casually leaning against the door frame; a joyous smile was blooming on his lips as he watched the two people who he loved most in the entire world, he wanted to capture the purity of the moment, Sherlock rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at John in a mock-petulant fashion. 

 

‘Hold still a minute would you.’

 

John whispered, he tiptoed over to his coat and retrieve his phone, he made sure it was switched to silent mode and then snapped a picture of Sherlock and Rosie, he flipped the phone around and grinned at the photo; it made his heart swell with affection for his little family, Rosie stirred at the sound of John's voice and she opened her wide, blue-green eyes...Mary’s eyes.

John's heart twisted for a moment and then Rosie coughed and spit up a mouthful of formula onto the tea towel, he couldn’t help himself, he gripped the door frame for support and burst into hushed giggles as Sherlock’s eyes widened before he grabbed a cloth from his shoulder and patted Rosie’s mouth and cheeks clean, he gave John a withering look that held no weight before he smiled and lay Rosie against his shoulder.

Sherlock stood up with one fluid movement, hardly even jostling the tiny princess; he patted her back gently to burp her and hummed a haunting but oddly beautiful tune under his breath as he stepped around the room. By this point, John's laughter had died in his throat and he stared in complete disbelief as Sherlock tended to Rosie as if he had done it a thousand times.

He felt a rush of pure adoration for Sherlock spreading through him and blooming in his chest, it seemed every time he looked at Sherlock he just kept on falling a little bit more in love with him, he never ceased to surprise and astound him, he was a know it all for sure but he was utterly unique and transcendental in every way.

John couldn’t understand how he had taken this long time come to terms with his feeling for Sherlock, but now that he had finally addressed them he couldn’t feel anything else...Just a fierce and savage love for the man holding his child.

He walked forward to stand next to Sherlock, he gently tucked Rosie’s blanket more securely around her and smiled as she blew out a tiny breath and fell asleep.

 

‘How long was I asleep?’

He whispered, reaching out to carefully take Rosie from Sherlock’s sturdy arms.

 

‘Four and a half hours.’

 

Sherlock whispered back, gently depositing the sleeping child into John's arms; he stretched his shoulders out, threw the soiled tea towel into the wash basket in the hall and followed John over to Rosie’s crib, he watched as John carefully set her down and moved to rest his head on his shoulder, John sighed at the contact and turned to envelop Sherlock in a tight hug; he chuckled against his chest and raised his head to look at him.

 

‘Now, don’t take this the wrong way Sherlock...But I think it’s about time you showered’

 

John wrinkled his nose playfully and raised an eyebrow, Sherlock snorted and straightened up.

  

‘Only if you join me.’

 

John huffed out a laugh and eyed him coyly.

 

‘You aren’t just interested purely in my body are you, Sherlock?’

 

Sherlock snorted again and cupped John's chin in his long fingers.

 

‘Oh John, I assure you that I am interested in every single piece of you, I'm interested in your wonderful mind, not just your body.....As wonderful as it undoubtedly is...’

 

Sherlock smirked at John's face flushed and bent down to kiss him; not a heated kiss, just chaste and sweet, he moaned in surprise as John pressed his lips to his once again with more force than before; He gently bit down on the plush flesh and then pulled away; John shot Sherlock one last cheeky look and then strode off in the direction of the bathroom, Sherlock glided along behind him in total silence; they entered the decently sized room and John busied himself with adjusting the controls on the chrome, free standing shower adjacent to the bathtub.

Sherlock began to instantly strip out of his clothes as the bathroom filled with humid steam, John turned around in time to see him ripping away his shirt before working on the ridiculous suit trousers he insisted on wearing even in summer, John chuckled and shucked the thin shirt from his own body and stuck his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats.

Sherlock's eyes instantly fell to the hard outline of John's cock against the dark grey fabric, he bit his lip as John arched his hips forward making the sweats slide a good few inches down his thighs, he watched in silence as John worked the loose fabric further down his thighs so he could step out of them.

John's boxers were different again today, this time they were white Calvin Klein, this surprised Sherlock even more than the red pair from the night before; the stark contrast between the pale material and John's tanned skin drew his eyes straight to the hard line straining against the fabric.

 

‘Would you like me to take these off, Sherlock? You seem to be rather distracted.’

 

Said John in a light, teasing tone, he emphasised his point by rolling his thumbs under the waistband, Sherlock let out a breath and braced a hand against the damp, cool tile to steady himself, when he didn’t reply John gave a dark chuckle and winked at him; he casually stepped forward to stand under the hot spray of water and held himself with his back to Sherlock, listening for a sound to indicate he was still breathing.

He smirked as he caught the tail end of a gasp behind him, normally he would have felt foolish for getting into the shower still wearing his now drenched boxer shorts, but he knew Sherlock was very physically attracted to him, he’d caught him staring more times than he could count, It gave him a great sense of power and he decided that he would, for want of a better word. ‘Indulge’ Sherlock.

Sherlock stood rooted to the spot, his mouth falling open slightly at the sight in front of him, how very odd it was that in this moment John looked more delicious with the sodden white boxers clinging to his every curve than he did fully naked, the water had turned them a near see-through, translucent white and Sherlock's mouth went extremely dry as John leaned forward against the cold wall making the fabric cling to his wonderful arse.

He hadn’t noticed that he too was beginning to sink under the weight of greedy arousal, John turned suddenly around to face him and all the breath gushed out of Sherlock's lungs; John's long fringe was hanging down against his cheek as he stood his head slightly tipped forward, the water cascaded down his face and neck in shining rivulets; he dipped his thumbs into his waistband almost casually, as Sherlock's eyes trailed lower, his mouth suddenly watered at the beautifully erotic sight, he could see every curve of John outlined through the wet cloth.

He could see the way his cock twitched as he skimmed his fingers lower under the shorts; Sherlock let out a desperate moan and stepped forward into the shower with him, unable to stay away from him anymore, he lunged forward and palmed the front of John's boxers with a shaking hand, John let out a breathy moan into the steamy air and was devoutly thankful that walls of the bathroom were reasonably thick enough to drown him out.

Sherlock practically purred as he sunk to his knees to mouth at the hard outline of John's cock; John gasped and let his head fall back against the cool tiles; Sherlock dragged his teeth against the wet cotton and John shuddered in surprise as the fabric slid against his wet skin, It felt so bizarre yet amazing, the thin layer of material against his cock added a new layer of delicious friction.

He hissed and entwined a shaky had in Sherlock’s damp mane of curls as he closed his lips around the head of his covered cock, John's free hand flew up to clamp firmly over his mouth as a hoarse moan threatened to finally give the neighbours something other than the destroyed flat to talk about, Sherlock chuckled around him and John swore loudly into his palm as he hips bucked forward slightly, Sherlock hummed and ran his tongue around the tip before pulling off.

John moaned in frustration and he stared pleadingly down at Sherlock who looked damp and debauched on the tile floor before him, he leaned forward and started to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the skin above John's waistband; John's hips stuttered forward in surprise and he panted as he kissed down the front of the boxers again, Sherlock gripped the waistband from the sides and began to slowly tug them from John's hips he moaned at the soft drag of material against his cock and whined when Sherlock paused at the very brink of releasing him, John shuddered and gasped as he Sherlock toyed with him, silently begging for him to stop being so cruel and just put his gloriously talented mouth to good use.

To John's blessed relief he didn’t need to wait long before Sherlock finally ceased his slow torture of him and peeled the boxers from his hips, he brazenly grasped John's arse and took his cock into his mouth, John wanted to scream as Sherlock’s hot, smooth tongue swirled around his straining cock, he settled for snatching up a nearby washcloth folded neatly on the handrail and shoved it into his mouth.

This was a wise decision as Sherlock proceeded to suck greedily at the swollen flesh; Sherlock was way too good at this to be considered ‘virginal’; he was an incredibly fast learner and it seemed like he was trying to root out every single thing that made John tick, he stared up at him with wide glittering eyes and John felt as if he could come right then and there at the sight of Sherlock staring so seductively at him with his full, soft lips stretched around his cock, he gently gripped Sherlock’s hair and pressed forward into the quivering heat of his throat.

 

Just like Sherlock fucking Holmes to have a nonexistent gag reflex.

 

Sherlock exhaled through his nose and pulled back from John's cock, his own damp boxer shorts were becoming painfully restrictive now due to John's barely stifled groans and cries, he stared up at him panting slightly and moaned as his cock twitched at John's ravenous expression, he gripped Sherlock by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet with shaky arms, he sagged against the wall of the shower and braced his hands against John's heaving chest.

 

Let’s get clean and take this to your room.'

 

John reached behind Sherlock and flipped open the lid on someone of Sherlock’s many potions and lotions, It was a deep amber colour and it had a heady smell, of bergamot and tree moss, sweet orange oil and something else he couldn’t quite place, whatever it was it smelled fantastic, It filled him up with a heady, ruthless energy as he spread his soapy hands down Sherlock’ chest and tight abdomen; Sherlock jumped at the feeling of the warm, smooth hands moving against his skin and bit his lip to muffle a whimper, John gently massaged the rich shower gel up over his shoulders and down his back, Sherlock shuddered as hot trails of foam dripped down his spine.

his boxer shorts were barely clinging to his thin hips as the sodden material shifted with the weight of the water, he gasped audibly as John suddenly wrenched the underwear from his hips with one quick movement, he let out a startled breath as John wasted no time in closing his soapy fist around his oversensitive cock, his eyes snapped closed and his mouth fell open as John swiped his thumb over the flushed tip before gently squeezing it at the base.

Sherlock let out a sharp breath and groaned as John began soaping up his thighs and ass with the perfumed suds, he easily reached behind John with his long arm and picked up the shower gel, pouring a generous coating onto his palms and sliding them against the smooth plane of John's back; John moaned and leaned desperately into Sherlock's touch, he swore quietly as he felt Sherlock's sharp nails against his skin, a biting contrast to the mounds of soft foam licking his shoulders and torso; John could stand it no longer and reached up to crush his lips to Sherlock’s in a filthy kiss, Sherlock snarled into his mouth and gripped John's arse cheeks possessively, John giggled against his lips and peeled back to look at him.

 

‘Do you like my arse Sherlock?’

 

He asked in a mock-innocent tone, his voice trailed off in a sharp gasp as Sherlock swatted one of his cheeks with a growl.

 

‘Do I like it?’

 

John huffed impatiently as Sherlock regarded him through his mane of dark wet hair, his eyes were opalescent as the water sparkled around them; Sherlock suddenly crushed his lips back against John's and spanked both his cheeks making him yelp into the kiss and buck his hips forward, they both groaned as their cocks briefly rubbed together.

 

‘I don’t ‘Like’ your arse John...The word 'Like.' is simply not powerful enough to describe how fucking delicious I find it to be.’

 

John's brain fogged as Sherlock swore in his wrecked posh accent, he didn’t think he’d ever stop finding it irresistible, he gasped as Sherlock slipped a finger between his cheeks and rubbed teasingly at his hole, he let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan and clung to Sherlock's shoulders as his knees momentarily gave way at the shock of the unexpected sensation.

 

‘Sherlock...I think we should...Get more comfortable don’t you? I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy explaining this to the paramedics or the Yard if one of us slips and breaks our neck.’

 

Sherlock chuckled and twisted to turn off the shower; they hurriedly dried off and exited the bathroom in a cloud of billowing steam clad in only a towel apiece, they tiptoed painstaking past the living room but found that Rosie was still dead to the world in her crib snoring daintily, John hurriedly pushed Sherlock through his bedroom door an carefully closed and locked it behind himself.

He barely had time to turn around before Sherlock was practically wrestling him out of his towel and pushing him down on the large bed; he growled and hurriedly scrambled up the bed to press against John, he needed John...Good God, he needed him.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and hungrily pressed his lips to his with a synchronised moan; Sherlock swung his leg over John to straddle him and pressed his tongue insistently against the seam of his lips, John opened his mouth with a sigh and allowed their tongues to fight a passionate battle as their breathing rose and hitched; John pulled away from Sherlock gasping and panting for breath; every fibreofn his body screamed for Sherlock's touch as he writhed against his still slightly damp skin.

  

‘Sher...Sherlock...I need you...I fucking need you so badly.’

 

He sounded so desperate and pathetic in his own ears but then Sherlock let out a strangled growl and pulled away to sit up, John looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

 

'John...Will you please turn onto your stomach for me if it isn’t too much trouble.’

 

Sherlock's voice was shaking with each word as he forced himself to focus on any part of John's body that wasn’t his cock, John huffed out a laugh at Sherlock's unwavering politeness and shifted to lie on his stomach; he slipped a pillow under himself and got an intense rush of déjà vu as he remembered Sherlock assuming this very same position...He clenched his teeth together remembering how tight Sherlock had been...How tight he too would surely be for Sherlock...A strange, powerful feeling flowed into him with a rush as he pushed his hips out from the pillow; gasping as his cock shifted against the silk of the pillowcase.

 

John held very still and waited for Sherlock to begin the delicate task of preparing him for......Oh...Oh Christ.

 

John had been expecting one of Sherlock’s long fingers to begin pressing into him; he had not in a million years anticipated the sudden and very jarring sensation of a hot, slick tongue against the delicate skin of his ass, he grabbed the nearest pillow and buried his face into it...Nobody had ever done this to John.

 

Sure, he’d thought about it before in the past but nobody had ever just brazenly initiated it like Sherlock, It was a sinfully intimate act and he knew he shouldn’t be finding it so very...

  

'Oh god...'

 

John whimpered, his voice was high and desperate; he arched his back as Sherlock did something wicked with his tongue, he squirmed and shuddered under the ministrations of the ruthless, merciless mouth, John tried to speak but nothing that could be considered coherent came out, just strings of half formed curses and breathless moans as Sherlock wholly undid him

  

‘Sh...Sherlock...Fffuck.....’

 

John broke off with a hastily muffled cry as Sherlock pointed his tongue and slipped in into him...It was obscene...It was filthy...And he loved it...He loved that it made him feel so fucking hot; he felt like he could explode at any second, he whimpered as Sherlock thoroughly explored him until he was a shivering wreck against the mattress, his cock was straining against the silk pillowcase and every drop of his hips made it rub against the soft material...It was sweet torture...Too much but not nearly enough...He needed to feel Sherlock inside him.

 

‘Sherlock...please...Oh god....Sherlock...Fuck me....Please...Please...’

 

John was almost chanting now as he writhed against the bed, Sherlock slowly pulled back and gently sunk his teeth into the flesh of John's arse cheek, he gasped and canted his hips forward in shock, he didn’t mind at all, he wanted Sherlock to claim him in every possible way, John heard the click of a lid and closed his eyes in anticipation for what was to follow, It seemed to take Sherlock a very long time to reach John and he was about to plead with him again when a long finger gently brushed over his entrance.

His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned when he felt Sherlock press inside, It was much easier than it had been the first time around and he found he became accustomed to the burning stretch much quicker than before, he panted as Sherlock added another finger, scissoring his fingers to further prepare his body, John pushed back almost without thinking and groaned as Sherlock hit his prostate, a third finger was quickly added and John hissed slightly at the intrusion before relaxing his muscles.

The pace was slow but would allow for a better experience for both of them, he had complete faith in Sherlock and shuddered as he continued to reduce him to an incoherent pile of mush.

 

‘I’m ready Sherlock...fuck I’m so ready...’

 

Whimpered John, arching back with a groan as Sherlock gently removed his fingers and spanked his ass with a growl.

 

‘Yes...I do believe you are...You look absolutely marvellous like this John....'

 

Sherlock chuckled darkly as John moaned, he loved using his voice to seduce him, the feeling of power it gave him was intoxicating, he gripped his aching cock and let a trickle of lube spill onto it with his free hand; he gasped as the slick liquid hit his skin and smoothed it out over the sensitive head, his hips quivered as he did so and a tight groan slipped from his parted lips; John pushed himself up on his hands and knees to still the maddening friction of the silk against his cock; he glanced over his shoulder and moaned as Sherlock caressed himself with a glazed look in his eyes, he looked so perfect with his hand around his cock, he clamped his bottom lip in his teeth and let out a shaky moan.

 

‘I don’t mean to interrupt you there Sherlock...But I was under the impression you were going to fuck me.’

 

Rumbled John in an amused yet aroused voice, Sherlock opened his eyes and smirked at John, Sherlock gently stroked himself as his took in the sight of John on his hands and knees, spread open and ready for him to take....

He leaned shuffled forwards on his knees and smoothed his palms down John's sides, across his stomach and down to his cock, his breath hitched as he wrapped his hand around it and gave it a possessive squeeze; John whined as the hand moved away to grip his hip, steadying him, he waited with bated breath, Sherlock took a deep breath and blew it out as he gripped himself firmly and pressed his hips forward to let the head of his cock brush against John's already slick entrance.

He paused there for a moment to savour the view of himself pressed against the tight hole until he could stand it no longer, he gripped John's hip tighter and let out a decadent moan as he pressed into him with one easy thrust.

John let out a rough groan as he was suddenly filled to the brim with  Sherlock’s thick cock, he tensed spasmodically and gripped the silk sheets as Sherlock wasted no time and started to drag his hips back only to slam back in almost brutally; John's head was swimming with primeval lust as Sherlock roughly took his pleasure, Sherlock let out a destroyed groan and it made John feel hot knowing that he was making Sherlock emit those sinful noises...He was the one making him breathless and incapable of speech...He, John Hamish Watson, was the one who could make Sherlock Holmes lose his composure.

Sherlock’s mind had gone on autopilot, the only thing he could think about was how fucking good everything felt, the tight heat of John's ass was making his vision blur as he could only stare enraptured as his cock was swallowed up in the all consuming heat, he grabbed John under his arms and pressed his back into his chest, Sherlock supported his weight like it was nothing and started pressing breathless kisses into the side of John's neck.

John gasped in surprise as he was hoisted up to press against Sherlock, he could feel his hammering chest on the skin of his back and moaned as he felt Sherlock’s hot breath on his neck, Sherlock's arms were locked around his chest and instead of strangling him it just made him feel utterly safe, wanted and loved, he knew that he shouldn’t be concerning himself with this thought now but couldn’t help it...He cast it into the back of his already overflowing mind and gave himself over entirely to the sensations.

John twisted around to claim Sherlock’s lips in a hot slightly mismatched kiss, the angle wasn’t perfect but Sherlock didn’t seem to mind at all, on the contrary, he moaned and craned his neck to correct the angle so their lips fitted together almost seamlessly, John swallowed Sherlock's feral growls and ragged moans before breaking off for air and pressing himself harder against Sherlock’s hips, Sherlock let out a snarl and snapped his hips forward to make John vocalise his breathy moans and sharp curses, he raked his nails down the pale gold skin of John's back and leaned forward to suck a bruise into his neck.

John whimpered and bucked his hips at the feeling of Sherlock’s glassy smooth lips on his searing skin and then the sweet sting of his sharp teeth, then there was a dark, rumbling voice seeping into his ear that sounded like the tropical storm brewing high above them.

 

‘I need to see you John....I need to see your face...Pplease...Turn over...’

 

A hot burst of pleasure swarmed in John's gut at the wrecked sound of Sherlock’s voice; but he was almost desperate to take back some form of control, he too wanted to see Sherlock so he opted for a compromise; Sherlock slowly pulled out with a hushed moan and John rolled over onto his back, just as Sherlock moved to loom over John, John grabbed him around his shoulders; locked his legs around his waist and rolled so he was now the one on top, Sherlock looked up at him with an amused expression his face.

 

‘Did you just tackle me?’

 

He asked in a hazy voice.

 

‘Yes, Yes I did.’

 

John replied smugly from his perch atop Sherlock.

 

‘You’re bossy.’

 

Purred Sherlock with a chuckle.

 

‘You love it.’

 

John grinned and bent down to give Sherlock a tender yet passionate kiss, he cupped his face in both hand and stroked his thumbs over the sharp, chiselled cheekbones that fascinated everybody, Sherlock sighed into the kiss and snaked his arms around John's waist; kissing John wasn’t like anything else in the world, it was the same action repeated over and over with no reason other than to express affection, he had always thought of it as intensely unhygienic and dull until he had kissed John for the first time and now it was something he could quite hapilly do all day.

The people he had kissed in the past were never special or important to him, he had never loved Irene Adler, or indeed anybody at all before John came along; Irene Adler, for all her bravado and mystique was rather ordinary, pathetic and fragile under her façade, she had backed herself into one too many corners now and it wouldn’t matter what her future captors ‘Liked.’ He was fairly certain she would not be so lucky next time.

He lost himself in John, giving over to all of his senses; he felt his hot skin pressed into his own, he heard the sounds of their mingled pants and stifled moans, he smelled the wonderful scent of John thick in the air around him; the smell of his skin and the fresh, woodsy scent of Sherlock’s shower gel, this thrilled him most of all, knowing that John now smelled of him, like he’d been marked with Sherlock’s signature scent, It made his blood sing in his veins; then there was taste.

He delved his tongue into John's eager mouth and tasted traces of tea and biscuits, something so quintessentially John, finally, he opened his eyes to see the man he would give his life again and again for with no questions asked; John was leaning over him with a burning look in his stormcloud eyes; his hair was dishevelled and his lips were slightly swollen from their furious kissing, his cheeks and neck were flushed and he was very, very, hard.

Sherlock smiled deviously up at him and reached forward to stroke him and chuckled as John ached forward and moaned at the contact, John grabbed the little bottle from the nightstand and spread a good amount onto his hand then he made Sherlock gasp and shudder as he slicked him up with the warm liquid, before he had the chance to comment on anything however, John was already sliding himself down onto his cock with a satisfied moan.

Sherlock went completely rigid as he fought to control his hips from pounding forwards into the burning heat surrounding him so suddenly, Instead, he threw back his head against the pillow and gripped John's hips for resolve, to his intense surprise and elation John wasted no time with slowly opening himself and elected to quite literally ride him; his back arched off the bed and he could no longer restrain himself from thrusting up to meet John's with a deep moan, he smoothed his palms over John's chest.

John had lost a lot of weight since the death of Mary and their time in Sherrinford, his stomach was trim and lean and his abdomen was taut...He looked so...So good, bearing down on him with frenzy and borderline aggression, Sherlock hadn’t thought it possible that he would ever feel so wonderfully alive.

He had been living in suspended animation after Mary died...John had left, unable to even see him...He had felt so utterly lost without him...He had been tiptoeing along a path to self destruction and the only way he felt anything was to use again...He felt vile...Tainted...But he also knew that giving in to the chemicals would take him away from his miserable, empty void of a life...Even if only for a little while.

Sherlock of course blamed himself for Mary’s death, It was of course he who suggested she return to London...He who had promised that he would protect her from harm at any cost...He who had broken that promise...He was the source of John's misery and yet here he was, moving atop him and gazing down at him with such a hungry and possessive expression on his handsome face.

His throat constricted suddenly and he let out a small sob, he silently cursed himself as his eyes began to fill with tears, tears of...well...He couldn’t really be sure, the tears he cried at the horrifying discovery of ‘Redbeard’s’ true identity had been his first in a very, very long time....His first real ones anyway.

But the tears that were now cascading down his cheeks were due to a feeling that he could not quite describe, for the very first time in his life he had become completely open to another person...John, for some insane reason was actually in love with him..After all he had done...After all the grief that he had caused...John had come back to him and for a moment Sherlock found himself thinking about the future with genuine excitement.

Not because of a triple murder in Covent Garden or a beheading in Camden but because of what he had right here in 221B Baker Street...Sweet little Rosie who he would teach to read and maybe someday play the violin...He bit his lip at this bright little spark of a thought in his otherwise dreary mind palace; It’s once comforting and benign atmosphere was gone now, replaced with demons from his past and present...Perhaps now Sherlock could redecorate with hope for the future.

Coming out of his reverie; Sherlock realised John was no longer seated on top of him but lying down next to him with an increasingly worried look on his face, all traces of arousal were gone, John accepted him wordlessly into his arms and softly carded his fingers through Sherlock’s messy hair; he was not at all put out by the fact that a mere moment ago they had been passionately rutting against each other, this was the first genuine time he’d ever seen Sherlock cry, he just held him as he sobbed into his chest, he could feel his tears against his skin, hot like summer rain, he was so open, baring his soul to John.

John had longed for this moment for such a long time; and here at last, Sherlock's carefully maintained veneer of a 'High functioning sociopath' melted away to reveal the real and broken man beneath; his fragility momentarily surprised him and then it made John love him all the more...Sherlock exhaled a shuddering breath and looked up from John's chest, his cheeks were wet and his eyes were sparkling with free flowing tears, he gave John a watery smile and pressed a kiss to his chest.

 

‘John Watson...The only person in this vast and infinite universe....Who could ever love someone as fucked up as me.’

 

Sherlock's voice was rough from crying and hitched on several words but it was beautiful...John had never heard him like this; he sounded so broken and unlike himself...All of Sherlock's clever bravado had melted away to reveal a very real and very broken human...He was like a jigsaw puzzle missing its crucial pieces...The world had not been kind to Sherlock Holmes....Nor had it been particularly kind to John, but he was determined to make Sherlock whole again.

There were times in the past where he would have left this lunatic to deal with his own problems and moved on with his life...He was so glad that he'd chosen to stand by Sherlock in such a dark time.

What he felt for Sherlock ran so much deeper than just love...He was a pure enigma to everyone around him, mysterious and elegant, but John would gladly take another bullet to his body to protect him from harm...It frightened him that Sherlock was so flippant about people who wanted his blood...He realised with an agonising stab of sadness that Sherlock did not fear death because he believed his life held no value.

Well, That was bullshit and John knew it better than anybody...Sherlock had spent all his time saving John....Well, now it was time for John to save him.

John lifted Sherlock's chin and stared deeply into his eyes, there was so much repressed pain and anxiety showing itself in his hollow gaze, It was amazing how much emotion was betrayed in those crystalline eyes; John swept his thumb through the tracks of tears dotting his pale cheeks, Sherlock sighed into his touch and leaned up to press his lips to John's; he tasted of the ocean and faint traces of earl grey as he pressed his mouth more forcefully against John's, John gave a surprised grunt but return the kiss with slight confusion.

Sherlock's rapidly changing emotions were slightly concerning at the best of times but at least he wasn’t crying anymore, now he was kissing him like nothing had ever happened yet tears still splashed  onto John's face and neck even as Sherlock ravished his mouth with a soft moan, John pulled away for breath and cupped Sherlock's face in his palms again.

 

‘I was doomed from the beginning Sherlock...Despite everything you’ve put me through in the past Sherlock...I love you...I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone other Rosie....The two of you are my whole world, don’t you ever forget that...Not even for a second.'

 

John took a deep breath and smiled at Sherlock.

 

'This is the man that I want to be....And I only want to be that man with you.’

 

John's own voice was beginning to stick in his throat and he watched Sherlock smile a rapturous smile, but then it didn’t matter about his voice because Sherlock was once again kissing him so forcefully that he forgot how to speak all together, the kiss was different than before, not as fierce but still deep and sensual; John clutched his face and gathered him in his arms, he felt so safe in this wonderful moment; a change was stirring inside of him; he could sense it in the air around him; his safe space was here with Sherlock clawing at his skin and kissing him so sweetly.

Here he was home, he pushed all ominous thoughts out of his head about a future outside of the reinforced safety of 221B...This where he wanted to stay...It was dysfunctional at best...But it was home.

Everything was falling into place as he melted into Sherlock's kiss and simply sighed and gave himself over to him entirely, It was now he that made a solemn and silent vow to never leave Sherlock again....Where Sherlock went...John would follow...Without question...For better or worse.

He cast this thought into the back of his mind and held Sherlock against him like a lifeline...This was where he belonged...For better or worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope you enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> Comments, bookmarks and kudos are all very much appreciated! You guys keep me writing :)


	9. Eurus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock returns to Eurus in hopes of reaching her.

 

# ♢Chapter Nine♢

#    ♢Eurus♢

 

 

 

Sherlock had departed from 221B with a sombre expression on his handsome face, he had decided to visit his sister; he yearned to connect with Eurus but it would be difficult now that she had supposedly passed beyond the realms of speech, Mycroft had told him that it was no use trying to reach her...Sherlock would try anyway, he had brought along his beloved violin to play for her if she would listen and even if she didn’t, he would still play for her.

Her haunting melodies tumbled in his mind, the longing and the loss reverberated around the cavernous space, so haunting and beautiful, he felt such an intense connection with his little sister, he could not explain it, how it could even be possible...But he loved her.

John was teaching him to love, John who had opened up his scarred little heart and laid himself bare for him, he had restarted the shrivelled organ within his chest cavity and brought it back to life...He wanted Eurus to feel loved too.

Mycroft was an entirely separate issue altogether, he had pointed a loaded gun at his big brother’s head, but here's the thing...Sherlock hadn’t been acting when he pressed the barrel of that cold, bloodstained gun to the hollow of his elegant throat...He would have rather died than sacrifice John or Mycroft to save his own worthless skin...He was fully prepared to paint that dark little room in awful, gushing red.

With all this swirling in his overactive mind, he marched down the brightly lit corridor in his trademark Bellstaff and well-fitting white shirt, John had enveloped him in a bracing hug and pulled back to press a lingering, protective kiss against his forehead.

 

‘Hurry back, I love you.’

 

He gathered all of his courage and faced the lift doors that would take him deep down into Eurus’s domain, the room was as he remembered, only this time there definitely was a layer of reinforced glass separating them, the harsh smell of bleach stung his nose and the bright overhead lights were hot on the back of his neck, no one should live like this, in this exiled, sterile prison, yhere were no comforts or distractions from the rigorous, clinical aura of the place...It was a barren and lonely existence.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward to the line marked on the pristine floor, ‘Three feet away from the glass at all times.’

 

‘Hello again Eurus.’

 

Sherlock spoke in a calm yet carrying voice but Eurus did not respond, she was curled up in the foetal position on her narrow bed, she was just staring blankly in front of her...One could be forgiven for mistaking her for a corpse, she was eerily still, the only indication that she was still very much alive was her shallow, quiet breathing; It tore at Sherlock's heart and he wanted to break down the dividing glass and take her into his arms again...To let her know how loved she truly was and that she was no longer lost in the sky...If he could not truly bring her home in the physical sense...He hoped he could bring her mind back down to earth...The way John had done for him. 

 

‘I’m pleased to see you again.'

 

And he meant it, It pained him to see her so dejected and alone; He knew that feeling all too well...There were times in the past where Sherlock would have preferred his lonely existence to the repulsive idea of a relationship of any kind...Feelings slowed him down and made him weaker...He’d found refuge in the sweet sting of the seven percent solution to escape the dull routine of existence, his ‘transport’ was nothing more than a vessel in which to carry his massive brain...And then along came John Watson...He’d never felt so intensely drawn to anybody before in his whole life; For all his horrible jumpers and adorably short stature, John was a soldier, as much now here in London as he ever was in that awful, bloodstained desert.

His love for John ran so much deeper than he’d ever thought possible and it was ever so slightly startling...How on earth did normal people deal with this feeling without their heads exploding? His heart twisted in his chest knowing Eurus had never been able to feel the joy of love, to never know the gentle touch of another was a thought that Sherlock could no longer process.

He would never leave John again. Never.

Sherlock jolted out of this deep reverie at the startling sound of fingernails on glass.

 

Tap tap tap.

 

Sherlock's head snapped up and he almost jumped back in shock as he came face to face with his sister and he was devoutly thankful for the bulletproof glass separating them from each other and even for the required three feet of distance; She looked much the same as before, if not a little more haunted-looking around her wide, void-like eyes, they shimmered as Sherlock's did and he began to understand why everybody was so damn fascinated by his eyes.

He straightened up and took a quick breath; he tried to form his face into a neutral expression and returned her gaze, he slowly bent down and opened his violin case, he paused to gauge her reaction and was pleased to see that it didn't change, he retrieved the beloved instrument with surprisingly steady hands, he straightened up and began ritualistically tuning, the notes rebounded in the silence like sharp arrows, piercing the fragile calm with no apparent consequence.

Finally, he was happy that the violin was now perfectly in tune, hhe rested it on his chin like he had done a billion times before he gripped the fine, horsehair bow in his free hand and with the other, he raised his long, dexterous fingers to the frets and began to play a soft, carrying tune; he felt his eyes slip shut as he drifted along to the sound of his playing, It flowed freely from his reformed mind, he found himself leaning into the music as it rang around the harsh little room with its dividing glass and bare walls.

He wondered if Eurus had her own mind palace, not just a ‘Hard drive.’ As she’d called it, he hoped if she did indeed have a mind palace that it was better than this; anything was better than this limbo-like existence, this was exactly how he had felt when he thought he’d lost John for good...Never able to move forward or backwards...Just existing in perpetual chaos.

He risked opening his eyes to see if Eurus was even still standing there, she was indeed standing exactly where she had been nearly three minutes ago, she looked almost childlike, her wide eyes and wild hair paired with the pristine white hospital gown she wore; he wondered if, in time, he could bring her something nicer to wear, something more suited to her than the women she impersonated, Perhaps dresses, he would need to find seamless ones with no places to conceal any weapons.

Sherlock did not entirely buy into his sister’s benign behaviour, because he knew given the chance she would kill again. She enjoyed it. It entertained her.

she was the living image of what Sherlock could have become had John not rescued him, he was edging closer to earning himself a one-way ticket to the morgue.

His ruthless hunger for knowledge may be the only reason he stayed alive...Well....Maybe he went on surviving the impossible out of sheer spite too.

The music shifted as he thought of John again, melting into a melody softer still, Eurus watched unblinkingly, it was incredibly unnerving even for Sherlock and he found himself thinking it might be best if he left...Eurus startled him again when she tapped thrice upon the glass and raised her pale face to look at him, he paused on a high note and the sound was swallowed up by the thick walls of Eurus's prison and silence was once again established.

The side of Eurus’s mouth ever so slightly quirked upwards and her eyes had gone as dark and dead as a Shark's...It was not a reassuring sign as her dead eyes bore into him and she began to look feral...He blinked a few times and gathered his words.

 

‘Would you like me to play something else?’

 

 

Eurus stared at him for a full, unblinking minute, with the same dead eyes...Suddenly, the right corner of her mouth hitched up into a snarl and then she let out a rough, dry chuckle, and then a look of great weariness and fatigue flashed on her face, she looked like she was going to cry and then she turned on the spot and walked back to her bed.

She pulled back the thin duvet and climbed inside, then she pulled the covers over her head and at once became as still as a corpse in a body bag...Sherlock stepped back in confusion and lowered his bow and violin in one fluid motion, he didn't understand what had just happened, One moment she seemed to be enjoying his playing and then suddenly she had just...Gone away.

It jarringly reminded him of his own tumultuous mood swings, It seemed that simply just playing a nice little song wouldn’t help him break though Eurus thick walls, he sighed and replaced his instrument in his case; he was intensely disappointed that Eurus had shut him out so completely, he felt he had earned the right to comfort her...No, he must have patience, Eurus seemed impenetrable but Sherlock was sure that she this was just a brittle veneer to hide how broken she really was.

It was with a heavy heart that he began the long and tedious journey back to the safe realm of 221B, he felt strangely weak and diminished, drained of all but a small flicker of hope for his troubled sister, when he finally landed back in London he effortlessly hailed a cab and gazed broodingly out of the window at the dark, glittering city as it passed by him.

There was little to no traffic now that it was almost nightfall, he loathed the awful ferry crossing away from the wretched island and barely retained the urge to kill on the underground, he was just glad to be seated comfortably in the back of the dark, quiet cab, finally, the cab rounded the corner and Baker Street came into view; Sherlock felt a small smile creep onto his solemn face as he thought of all who lived within its walls, he paid the cabbie and stepped out into the considerably cooler air.

The tropical storm had come and gone like his interaction with Eurus, he inhaled the chilly air into his disused lungs, he felt he had taken next to no breaths whilst in the presence of her...He noted with a smile that the door knocker had been straightened, Mycroft had made a repeat visit? How very unlike him.

He compulsively turned the knocker slightly out of line and unlocked the door, It was almost as silent as Eurus’s room had been, he padded silently up the stairs, avoiding the squeaky spots, he gently pushed open the living room door and there he was, the man that he couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

John seemed to be dosing over a cup of tea in his armchair, Sherlock fought the urge to snort, he looked so like an old man...Well, an incredibly sexy and devastatingly handsome old man.

As expected, Rosie was our for the count, she was amazingly fond of sleep and that agreed with Sherlock quite well, he did, of course, adore her when she was awake, but while she slumbered innocently It gave him chance to be with John...His beloved John Watson, Sherlock closed the door quietly and shrugged out of his coat and scarf, he walked forward to John's chair to get a better look at him.

His face was soft and open in sleep, the lines of worry did not show and he looked strangely at peace, Sherlock quickly snapped a picture of the beautiful image for later viewing, he knelt down in front of John's chair, leaned forward and pressed his large palm against his slightly stubbly cheek. 

 

‘John.’

 

He murmured softly, he stroked his thumb over John's jawline; John's eyes fluttered and then slowly opened, they were a deep ocean blue and a soft smile drifted onto his face, Sherlock’s body surged with affection for John as he took in his messy sleep hair, he looked execptionally ruffled and it was simply adorable. 

 

'You were gone a long time.’

 

Mumbled John, yawning and moving to sit up.

 

‘Yes, I know.....I am sorry that I stayed away so long...I didn’t really make much process with Eurus today...’

 

Sherlock's face fell and he stared down at his knees, John grasped hold of Sherlock's hand and pressed a chaste kiss to the delicate skin on the back, Sherlock let out a breath and all his thoughts fled his mind at the touch of John's lips on his sensitive skin, he was coiled so tensely from the stress of the day yet the kiss made his troubles fade away.

  

‘I missed you.’

 

Said John in a sleep hazy voice, he reached forward to gently kiss him, Sherlock grabbed him under the arms and pulled him to stand before enveloping him in an all-consuming embrace; his own lips were more insistent that John's in the beginning but soon they were entwined so tightly around each other that it would be considered risqué if they were in public, John huffed out a pleased moan into Sherlock's mouth, he tasted of liquorice and honey, a tea he favoured from his time in Afghanistan, It was sweet on his tongue as he plundered John's mouth with borderline ferocity.

 

‘I want you.’

 

Muttered John against Sherlock’s lips, he slid his hands down over Sherlock's back, he was trembling beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt, John wanted to feel his nails against Sherlock's delicate skin, he sucked Sherlock's bottom lip and nipped at it with his teeth, Sherlock shuddered and let out a breathy yelp at the shock of sweet pain.

 

‘You have me....Body and soul.’

 

Breathed Sherlock into the small pocket of space between their parted lips, John's breath hitched as he crushed his lips back to Sherlock's once more with renewed passion, they climbed the stairs to the attic room and moved wordlessly to the bedroom; John grabbed Sherlock by his thin shoulders and threw him bodily onto the mattress of the newly made bed, no doubt it would not stay clean for very long, he pressed forward and sealed his lips to Sherlock's with an intense ferocity, Sherlock yelped in surprise but then moaned deeply and surrendered to John's ministrations.

 

John Watson, his voice of reason and his reason for living...He gave himself over to the blissful sensations and let himself bask in John's love and devotion.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and bookmarks make me very happy. xx


	10. Mary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a John flashback chapter before he finally decided to go back to Baker Street.
> 
> It sucked to write because it's just so sad.
> 
> Why do I do this to myself?
> 
> I really am a masochist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Sorry for the feels.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  

 

 

# ♢Chapter Ten♢

# ♢ _Mary._ ♢

 

 

 

 

 

In the wake of Mary's death, John felt only rage and grief, there had been no way to escape it, he had never felt so alone...Or so lost...He felt like he’d bled out alongside Mary on the floor of that cold, dark aquarium, he felt the agonising sting of the bullet wound that killed Mary mirrored in his own heaving chest.

He was falling, no, plummeting, deeper and deeper into his own personal hell...He couldn't breathe...And he was drowning in his misery, when he thought of the one responsible he swelled with terrible rage. He couldn’t even bear to think the wretched sleuth’s name...How could he feel anything for the man who killed his wife?

The man was delusional, unstable and people died when they got involved with him, but slowly as time went on, Sherlock Holmes began to creep back into his mind against his will...His dark rumbling voice echoed in his head, the lilting sound of a violin; how wonderful he smelled....He couldn't help it...He couldn’t get him out of his head, this only served to further infuriate him as he found himself missing Sherlock and hating himself for it...Little had he known that Sherlock was busy having his own psychotic breakdown.

John smirked to himself bitterly and cursed as he remembered the time when he had been shocked by the very first crime scene they had worked, the sight of the dead woman in the eye-wateringly bright pink coat, lying face down on the floor had made him flinch...Oh, that was funny now.

 

John lay flat on his back in his twisted sheets, he stared at a spot of dirt on his ceiling for who knows how long; the space once occupied by his wife was now cold and vacant...Oh God, it hurt. 

A low growl rumbled through his chest before a strangled scream ripped through his clenched teeth, he balled his hands into his fists and hissed as hot pain sliced through them, his knuckles were bruised and raw, he really had hit him...Fuck, He really had.

The guilt gnawed away at him, Sherlock almost died and the hands of that dreadful man and his last memory would have been John beating him to within an inch of his life and of the cruel things he had said, John's heart wrenched as he remembered how Sherlock hadn’t even defended himself.

Another flash of memory sparked in his mind, the hug...He hadn’t broken down like that since he'd come home from the war, Shell-shocked and damaged, he hated that his mind pointed out to him that he fit perfectly into Sherlock’s arms...He remembered the feeling of his long fingers trailing up his back to cup his neck, he'd continued to sob into Sherlock’s chest, breathing in his wonderful smell without even thinking, John's arms had stayed firmly by his sides but that didn’t stop Sherlock from wrapping his free arm around his waist, effectively locking him in place.

It had been the single most intimate moment that they had ever shared.

He felt so safe and so wanted in Sherlock's strong arms; swathed in a comforting embrace with all emotions laid bare, this was the beginning of something explosive, he could feel the first tentative embers stirring inside of him...Smouldering on the edge of flame.

John slept fitfully that night, curled in a ball with a troubled expression on his sleeping face, the rain was hammering outside and thunder rolled overhead, this did not rouse him from the cold grip of a nightmare, so vivid and filled with terrible colour...Sherlock on the pavement outside the hospital, the awful splatter of crimson across the grey concrete and Sherlock's face; his wide unseeing eyes and bloodstained porcelain skin pierced deep into John's heart, the nightmare faded into another wretched memory that John was desperately trying to suppress...Mary trembling in his arms on the cold tiled floor of the aquarium, her ragged breath hot against his wet cheeks; he could feel her rapid heart pounding against his blood-soaked shirt as it tried in vain to keep beating, John watched as the light left her baby blue eyes and felt her go still against him.

 

Mary is dead.

Mary is gone forever.

  

John started awake with and sat bolt upright in the bed, he was on the edge of a panic attack after barely two seconds of being awake, he gasped for air and trembled violently, the images were running on a loop through his mind with awful clarity; a dark, rumbling growl broke the silence; it built in volume until a devastated scream of anguish ripped its way out of his clenched teeth, It rang around the darkened room and tailed off into a whimper and then to a weak sob, hot tears fell over his face like the rain outside as he turned to look at the vacant space beside him.

He remembered the way she had smiled when he playfully threatened to marry her and how beautiful she had looked on their wedding day......he hugged his knees up to his chest and collapsed onto Mary's side of the bed; he sobbed into the cold pillow and desperately inhaled her fading scent, he remembered how Sherlock had looked in that dreadful hospital bed, bruised and half smothered and grit his teeth together...He had put him in there in the first place...

John rolled over with a growl of frustration and pressed his palms against his swollen eyes, this had to stop...Try as he might he just simply couldn't shake off the wretched sleuth.

 

'Pull yourself together for fuck sake;

 

He mumbled before he staggered to his feet and went in search of a strong drink, If he was seriously considering going back to 221B...Then he would definitely need it. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos would be super awesome. :)


	11. Captain John Watson.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *A wild Captain John Watson appears*
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> Sex....Lots and lots of sex.

# ♢Chapter Eleven♢

# ♢Captain John Watson♢

 

 

 

 

 

_John grabbed the front of Sherlock’s ridiculously expensive suit trousers, popped the button and tugged down the zip to free Sherlock from one of two layers, Sherlock gasped and clutched at John's shoulders for support as John cupped him teasingly through his restrictive boxer shorts, it seemed he and John had started some sort of nonverbal battle to see who could wear the most shocking underwear._

_Today Sherlock had chosen lilac silk boxers; they worked exquisitely alongside his pale ivory skin, they were almost feminine and only he could have pulled them off so effortlessly, there was a darker purple stain pooling from a spot on his boxers, the feeling of John's hot palm curled around him made him whimper.  
_

  

_‘Off.’_

 

_Rumbled John against his lips, he slid back off Sherlock to begin discarding his own clothes; he was also treated to a front row seat of Sherlock, shucking his long legs out of his trousers and tearing off his socks, he settled back against the mattress and shifted his hips upwards, he hissed as the silky fabric slid tantalizingly across his sensitive underside of his cock, John let out a gruff groan and eyed Sherlock like prey; his ravenous, stormy blue eyes zeroed in on his erection and his sucked his bottom lip between his teeth._

 

 

_‘That’s an order Sherlock!’_

  

_John all but barked, Sherlock jumped slightly and looked at John with a hunger matched only by his own, John's lip quirked and he briefly ran his tongue over his back teeth as he assumed his role as captain._

 

_‘I gave you an order Sherlock.'_

_John's voice became clipped and formal, It sent an intense thrill through him to wield this power over Sherlock, huddenly he had an idea...A very cruel but ingenious idea, before Sherlock could speak John ‘shh’ed’ him and looked him straight in the eye._

 

_‘Close your eyes Sherlock.’_

 

_Sherlock blinked and looked a John in confusion._

 

' _John? What...’_

 

_‘You will adress me as Sir and do as I say...That’s an order Sherlock Holmes!’_

 

_A shiver rolled up John's spine as he heard Sherlock's low moan; he turned to his closet and pulled out a black silk tie he’d worn for work do’s, he grinned down at it and turned back to Sherlock; instead of looking alarmed like John had expected, Sherlock's eyes glinted with curiosity and lust, sherlock took a breath and closed his eyes._

 

_‘Yes Sir.’_

 

_John moaned helplessly at the sound of Sherlock submitting to him, he crossed the room swiftly and knelt down to kiss Sherlock hard on the mouth, a breathy sight escaped him as John pulled away; he picked up the tie and gently but securely tied it around Sherlock’s head; swathing his eyes in silken dark._

 

_‘Don’t touch yourself, that’s an order!’_

 

_Sherlock whined and bucked his hips in frustration._

 

_‘Yes sir,’_

 

  _John chuckled darkly and returned to his closet; he rooted through right to the very back of it to find his pristine peaked cap, his leather combat boots and finally his dog tags; he shrugged out of his clothes and threw them in the direction of the hamper; he had decided to keep his boxers on but he changed them again, they were now silk and dark red, he briefly admired himself over in the mirror and almost dissolved into a laughing fit as he realized he was pretty much acting out ‘Buffalo Bill’s ‘I’d fuck me.’ scene from the iconic movie_ ' _The silence of the lambs.’_

 

_Only Sherlock would be the one getting fucked hard._

 

_The metal of the dog tags was cool against the flushed skin of his neck, he had taken a moment to coif his hair and adorn the peaked cap at a slight angle, then he laced himself into the calf-high combat boots, they still fit perfectly, Sherlock writhed impatiently, starved of his sight he had focused instead on his remaining senses._

 

_John...His scent was everywhere, rich and masculine, dripping testosterone like kerosene on a fire..._ He could hear John walking around the room and hear his heavy breathing; he could also feel, feel the whispering touch of the silk tie swathing his vision in darkness and also the silk boxers he wore, straining to contain his desperately hard cock.

_Just when Sherlock thought he could stand this torture no more, John spoke._

 

_‘Take off the blindfold Sherlock.'_

 

_Sherlock jumped to attention and ripped the tie from his eyes, all the breath left his body at the sight before him, John was utterly magnificent in his sparse uniform, Sherlock's mouth watered as he looked over the lean curve of John's legs; The leather boots came to the top of his calves and hugged the muscles tightly, his eyes drifted up his legs and over the deep red boxers against the gold hue of John's skin, the peaked cap was tipped slightly to the side to shade John's handsome face, he looked devastatingly good._

 

_‘Now.’_

 

_Purred John, looking Sherlock over like a predator._

 

_'Where were we? Ah yes...Strip.’_

_John's voice was commanding but had a slightly playful lilt to it; Sherlock's skin was on fire as he shed away the layers of expensive, tailored cloth covering his marble-like torso and everything in between, he was a snowy Adonis, save for his flushed cheeks and tantalizingly hard cock, It stood out against his abdomen and there was already moisture beading at the tip, John stared at it hungrily and unabashed, he stalked forward and knelt on the bed in front of Sherlock; he stretched out his free hand and stroked his aching cock, John swallowed Sherlock’s desperate groan in a hot kiss, all lips and tongue along with the occasional nip of teeth._

  

_‘Is this what you like Sherlock? Does looking at me dressed this way make you want me?’_

 

_John's voice was a low murmur against Sherlock’s swollen lips; he smoothed his thumb over the head of his cock and chuckled darkly as Sherlock cried out into John's mouth and bucked his hips forward._

 

 

_'Yes sir.'  
_

 

_Sherlock's words were muffled against John's hot lips and he drew back gasping for breath, John chuckled again, he took off his peaked cap and placed it atop Sherlock's unruly curls; it suited him quite well thought John; He slid to his knees in front of Sherlock and stared up at him with the unchanging, hungry expression; he leaned forward and licked a hot stripe up the underside of his cock, he gasped and fisted a hand in John's neat hair, John rolled his tongue over the sensitive head and sucked hard._

 

_Sherlock let out a sharp moan and knotted his fingers tighter into John's silvery hair, John seemed to love having his hair pulled...He was definitely full of surprises...The kinky little shit._

_Sherlock's eyes rolled shut and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip; he would never grow tired of the feeling of John's mouth on his cock, John began to bob and wrapped his hand around what he could not fit in his mouth, Sherlock’s hips stuttered forward and he let out a harsh groan into the night air._

_John growled around Sherlock's cock and was treated to the sight of his face, contorted in an expression similar to agony as the vibrations from John's throat enveloped him in a moment of sheer bliss, Sherlock gave a strangled sob as John slowly pulled off; he was panting and looked wilder than he’d ever seen him._

 

_‘Lie down on your front love.’_

 

_John had dropped the roleplay façade, now was a time to be gentle, Sherlock was clearly still in shock from the events of the last few months and John wanted to help him through the darkness; Sherlock took a deep breath and smiled seductively at John, he took off the peaked cap and placed it on the nightstand; he swiped up the now half empty bottle of lube as he set the hat down and placed it on the pillow, John blew out a breath and had to squeeze his eyes shut as he turned back to see the image of Sherlock who was now lounging on his stomach with a pillow under his hips...Such a lovely sight._

_John purred appreciatively and moved forward on his knees until his chest was pressed against Sherlock’s back, Sherlock inhaled sharply as John pressed hot kisses into each of his vertebrae; he kissed the small of his back and all he could do was whimper into the sheets, his eyes widened as John pressed a kiss to his bare arse cheek and then gently bit down into the plush flesh._

_He gasped and tried to make words happen._.. _John's mouth was slowly moving lower and lower...Was he...Surely not..._

  

_Words did not happen._

_Sherlock felt the soft flicker of John's slick tongue across his perineum, feather light and like trails of fire on his skin, he yelped as John suddenly gripped both of his cheeks and gently spread them, Sherlock had never been in such an intimate situation, John spanked both cheeks and then tentatively licked Sherlock’s most intimate area, Sherlock's breath caught in his throat, he tried to stutter out words of some description but only managed a sharp moan at the sinful feeling._

_He clawed at the expensive sheets and sunk his teeth into a pillow as John set to work destroying him, he was completely helpless to the intensity of this new sensation; so utterly wrong and depraved in nature...So very bestial and primal._

 

_John had never done this before, he’d never been asked or felt obliged to do so, it wasn’t something he’d ever considered doing, not because he disapproved of the act, just that he’d never given thought to the idea, but as ever, he was learning a lot of new things lately, this being one of the more sexual things._

_It was wild and new, so much yet undiscovered as he unraveled the enigma of Sherlock Holmes, he wanted to know everything about him; what made him tick, and now, what got him off the most, it was a strange urge to please him that he couldn’t control...He never wanted to stop pleasing him._

_Sherlock writhed against the sheets as John pointed his tongue and pressed into his hole, lord have mercy he was done for, he would never have imagined he could feel this good, John's tongue was slick against his sensitive flesh and he barely held back his desperate moans and broken words of devotion for John._

_Sherlock was quivering beneath John's hands as he worked him open with his tongue, his cock was hard and aching against his abdomen and he desperately wanted to take Sherlock; he gave a few more long licks to him and pulled back panting, he grabbed his cock and squeezed, willing himself to calm down and not come from the sounds of Sherlock's moans._

_Sherlock gasped and shuddered against the mattress as John's tongue left him, his body felt cold without John's touch, he shakily lifted his head to look over his shoulder at John, the sight was quite magnificent; John's dog tags were glinting against his heaving chest, his eyes were wild with lust and his mouth was set in a line of concentration as he got himself under control._

 

_‘Take me.’_

 

_It was all he could muster, his brain has shut down and he was utterly at John's mercy._

 

_‘Let me see you, love.’_

 

_Breathed John as he crawled back up the bed towards him; Sherlock rolled over onto his back and John moaned as he saw just how achingly hard he was, his cock was flushed and straining against his abdomen and John just couldn’t help himself; he stalked forwards on his hands and knees and smoothed his fingertips over Sherlock's hips; Sherlock twitched and then gasped as John gripped him and slowly began to stroke, almost teasingly, he swiped his thumb over the engorged head of his cock and reveled in Sherlock's tight groan, John chuckled darkly before he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of Sherlock's cock._

_Sherlock let out a sound somewhere between a sigh, a gasp and a yelp as the intense heat of John's mouth met his flesh, he couldn’t help the way his eyes rolled back and his beautiful, plush lips parted in an expression of intense pleasure, a small crease appeared between his eyes as he drew his lower lip into his teeth to silence himself a little, John smirked around Sherlock’s cock as he slowly began to take more and more of him into his mouth, Sherlock couldn’t help it this time._

_A low moan escaped from his throat as John began to give him possibly the best blowjob so far; his head hit the pillows with a dull ‘thunk’ and his hips began to move of their own accord into the frenzied heat of John's mouth, John was intensely enjoying his sexual awakenings with Sherlock, every part of him wanted to please him...To praise him...To worship him._

_Sherlock let out a luxurious groan as John's tongue swirled over the tip of his cock; he squeezed his eyes more tightly closed and clenched his free hand in his own hair to quell some of the tension in his shivering body, his chest was heaving as John took in almost all of his cock without batting an eye, Sherlock could never have imagined that John could be any more attractive, John's own cock was straining in the silk boxer shorts, almost painfully tight now, he needed Sherlock more desperately than ever before; He slowly pulled off Sherlock's cock and didn’t give him time to complain as he licked down over Sherlock's sac and lifted his hips to tease at his entrance with his tongue, Sherlock gasped and whimpered at the indescribable sensation of John's tongue against his sensitive skin, he writhed and fisted both hands into his wild hair._

 

_John was going to kill him._

 

_John pulled back and gripped Sherlock's parted thighs, he looked absolutely delicious, his cock neglected cock throbbed painfully and he ripped off his boxers with a growl, his cock sprung free, It lay hot and heavy against his taut abdomen; he grabbed the lube and slicked himself up with a shudder, Sherlock was gazing up at him with half lidded, jewel like eyes. John slid forward and lined himself up with Sherlock’s hole, he firmly gripped his hips and looked deep into his beautiful kaleidoscope eyes and then slid into him in one fluid movement._

_He let out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a growl as he buried himself in the tight heat of Sherlock; his hips stuttered forwards so that his entire cock was seated deep inside of him, his toes curled and his back arched; his mouth was agape and his eyes were squeezed shut in an expression bordering on pain, Sherlock's breath punched out of his lungs as John roughly thrust into him, It was so sudden that he barely had time to adjust before John slid back out to the tip and leaned down to capture his lips in a hot, messy kiss._

 

_‘Feels so fucking good....Sh...Sherlock....Oh god...’_

 

_John's words stuttered off into a low moan as he thrust forwards again into the exquisite heat; he could feel Sherlock's muscles battling to get used to the intrusion so he wiled himself to slow down, he blew out a harsh breath through his nose and stilled his hips slightly, now just gently rocking back and forth, Sherlock’s answering sob of pleasure sent ripples through John's gut as he arched deeper into him with a frustrated growl. the slow, undulating pace was driving him insane...He wanted to ruin Sherlock...He’d never want to touch another man after John was through with him._

_To John's surprise and delight, Sherlock unexpectedly bucked his hips hard and John's lips twisted in a snarl as Sherlock responded willingly, the blunt head of John's cock hit home on his prostate; he let out a hoarse cry and gyrated against the sensation; his whole body seized up, his mouth fell open and his eyes snapped shut._

 

_‘Do you like the feeling of my cock Sherlock....I’m so fucking hard for you.....’_

 

_John's filthy words choked off as Sherlock tackled him and flipped them so he was now straddling him, before John had time to process the change in position Sherlock had slid easily down onto his cock with a savage groan, John tried to speak but he had no breath to form words with; for a minute or so all he could do was gasp and shudder as Sherlock gently rode him, teasingly slow, one thrust at a time, John growled and slammed his hips upwards, pushing himself deeper and harder into the gorgeous man moaning above him._

_John's sweat drenched palm wrapped around Sherlock’s leaking cock and moaned as he felt Sherlock tighten as a result; he aimed his thrusts upwards and deepened with every stroke, Sherlock let out a wrecked groan as John effortlessly found his prostate again and again, making him shudder and writhe in ecstasy, for a long time neither of them could speak, the only sound in the room was of skin on skin._

_Sherlock's sinful moans and John's filthy groans and words of encouragement as he thrust upwards hard and dragged Sherlock down for another kiss, longer than the last, John was sealed so tightly in bliss that everything outside this thick fog of pleasure no longer seemed to matter as he clawed at Sherlock’s shoulders and moaned against his swollen lips._

_Sherlock whimpered as John set a punishing pace and felt his brain short circuit; John continued to growl almost constantly as he took Sherlock roughly and deeply, his hot, rapid breathing spilled onto his hypersensitive neck, he whimpered as John sucked a purple bruise into the delicate skin, John trailed his tongue along Sherlock’s thin collar bones and down to flick it quickly over one of his nipples, he gasped in surprise and arched his back to meet John's hot mouth, he groaned sharply as John sucked hard on the pebbling flesh and swiped his tongue over to the other one, repeating the process._

_Sherlock’s head was swimming with ecstasy as John filled him again and again with his wonderful cock, it fit so perfectly inside of him; it made him nearly faint with pleasure; Their eyes locked and for a moment they just admired each other, John moaned and gripped Sherlock's shoulders as he began to thrust back into his him, Sherlock's breathy whimpers and stuttering moans were all John could focus on as he bucked up into him at an increasingly frantic pace._

_Sherlock whined as John's cock abused his prostate, sending ripples of hot pleasure thought his gut, he could feel his own orgasm looming but he never wanted this feeling to end, John seemed to agree as his head slammed back against the pillows._

  

_‘Sherlock...Sherlock I’m...’_

 

_Sherlock crushed his lips to John's and clutched at his shoulders for support, wanting to touch as much of this Extraordinary man as possible, Sherlock pulled back and let out as low groan as his whole body seized up and an uncontrollable shudder rippled through him as hot ropes of come painted John's stomach and chest, Sherlock wanted to savour the beautiful image but he could no longer keep his eyes open._

_John's arched forward and curled his arms around Sherlock's waist as his orgasm tore through him with the force of an explosion, he clenched his teeth as he felt Sherlock tighten around him and let out a sharp cry as he spent himself into him, they stayed in place for a tranquil moment, breathing heavily and clutching each other like their lives depended on it._

_John lazily opened his eyes to look at Sherlock; he was looming over him with a serene smile on his beautiful face, he slowly dismounted John and collapsed on the bed next to him, he reached out a tired hand for the wet wipes and handed a few to John who took them with a tired chuckle, they cleaned themselves up the best they could and rolled over to face each other._

 

_‘You’re bloody amazing, you know that?’_

 

_John's voice was hoarse from moaning so much, he eyed Sherlock with a grin on his face, Sherlock’s face flushed and his lip quirked into a gentle smile._

 

_‘You do know you say that out loud.’_

  

_John giggled and playfully shoved Sherlock’s shoulder, Sherlock let out a gravelly bark of laughter and reached out to stroke John's cheek._

 

_‘You’re too good for me John Watson, I don’t deserve you’_

 

_‘Well I think I’m exactly what you deserve Sherlock....You’ve brought me back to life...I feel things for you that I never thought I could feel, I mean, I know our job isn’t a barrel of laughs but I couldn’t do it with anybody else...I dunno, I just feel like this is it, This is the start of my life, with you and with Rosie and lovely Mrs. Hudson.'_

_John chuckled as he thought of all the hard work Mrs. Hudson had put into the gifts for his daughter, he was so ridiculously lucky._

 

_It was fucking ironic._

 

_Mary had died and he was given another chance to live._

 

_He mentally chastised himself for this thought and turned his attention back to the only man who mattered, Sherlock was smiling softly at him and shaking out his hair with his free hand, It was sticking up in wild, unruly ringlets and it was fucking adorable, John sighed and leaned over Sherlock to give him a sweet, tender kiss._

 

_'We deserve each other.’_

 

_Mumbled Sherlock to John's lips, he pulled John to lie on his chest and wrapped his arms around him protectively, he slid his fingers into John's hair and cupped the back of his head as he kissed him; It was never going to stop amazing him, holding John in his arms and kissing him gently, It was like this every time they made love...Even if it got a little rough sometimes, it was still lovemaking, he would never get tired of waking to John curled around him, so warm and peaceful._

 

_So this was love then..._

 

_Sherlock wasn’t well schooled in romantic feelings but he now understood why everyone was so attracted to it, the emotions that tumbled around Sherlock’s mind palace were almost as strong as his body’s reaction; the way his pupils dilated when he look at John, how his heart rate and breathing fluctuated when he smiled at him, he rush of joy as he opened his eyes to see his beloved John sleeping beside him and realising over and over again that it hadn’t all been a dream._

 

_Sherlock and John fell asleep still holding one another in a collective embrace, Rosie slept on in her crib, amd for once, all was well at 221B._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments on my work.
> 
> It really does mean a lot and encourages me to write more, I have so much more planned for our Baker Street boys!
> 
> Once again I do hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it.
> 
> Comments and kudos are awesome :)


	12. Memory Lane.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An exploration into the mind of Mycroft Holmes.

 

 

 

#  ♢Chapter Twelve♢

# ♢Memory Lane♢

 

 

_Mycroft had spent the best part of a month double and triple checking  all his alarms and security systems before he headed to his gym room, he had traded his tailored, starched suit for a light set of workout clothes, the Lycra was tight against his thinning abdomen and taught thighs, he very rarely got any time to himself and always seemed to be constantly running around clearing up other people’s shitstorms._

_Mycroft only cursed in private and found it quite therapeutic, he took a long drink from a filtered sports bottle and started up his treadmill; at first, he just walked, listening to the hum of the machine as he stretched out his shoulders, e gradually increased the speed and tried to push all thoughts out of his mind as he closed his eyes and ran he found comfort in the depths of his own mind palace._

_He allowed himself to wonder the gilded corridors and lingered at the door of a room that contained an intensely peaceful and beautiful memory, he was drinking deeply from a crystal cut glass, the fine amber liquid swirled on his tongue; Mycroft only drank the best, single malt scotch, he was reclined in his large, leather wingback chair, basking in the heat of a roaring fire of driftwood, the flames changed from bright green to hazy blue and the salt made them crackle pleasantly._

_It was here in this beachside cottage in the Outer Hebrides that brought peace to him, he'd somehow managed to keep it a secret for nearly seven years,_ It was the single greatest purchase of his life. _His own slice of paradise._

_His mind shifted to the forests surrounding the lonely, beautiful place, the view from the windows was spectacular in all directions; the panoramic sight of the smooth, white beach a stone’s throw away, he marvelled at the rippling ocean, the curious way it seemed to blend in with the slowly darkening sky. It was here that he was able to be human._

_He didn’t have to wear a sharp suit or mind his manners here, he was instead wearing magnificent lilac silk pyjamas and black moccasins, e could sit right here in silent contemplation with only the sound of the undulating waves to trouble him._

_He placed his drink down on its designated coaster and got to his feet, he living room was modern with a twist of Victorian charm; the walls were clad with dark bookshelves and display cabinets, he was a lover of taxidermy birds and had several beautiful owls displayed in bell jars._

_He padded across the deep red carpet to a worn looking record player, It remained one of Mycroft's only childhood possessions along with an enormous collection of well played, yet well-kept records and leather bound books, e flicked through the mountains of vinyl until he found something good to play, he came across a record that must be Sherlock’s. He smiled as he remembered Sherlock's brief 'New Romantic’_ _phase._

_‘Chris Isaak.’ He confessed he found the man’s voice rather soothing to his frazzled soul, he carefully removed it from the paper cover and placed it on the battered turntable, he gently brushed his fingertips over the grooved surface; then he randomly selected a track. 'Blue Spanish sky' That sounded nice._

There was a soft crackling noise and then a lilting Spanish guitar flowed from the speakers; the _song was slow and enthralling; Mycroft returned to his chair and refilled his glass._

  

_He was jolted sharply out of his reverie by his phone buzzing against his thigh_ _,_ It _made him jump slightly and he huffed out an annoyed breath as he nearly fell off the treadmill._

  

_What now?  He powered down the treadmill and took out his iPhone, It was Greg Lestrade calling. Oh bugger, that couldn't mean anything good._

 

_He sighed in defeat and answered the phone._

  _  
_

_‘What is it, Detective?'_

 

_‘Mycroft, t_ _here’s been a murder...Or a massacre might be a better word...T_ _here’s so much blood....But.....No bodies anywhere...Just blood...The person or persons responsible need to be apprehended and neutralised immediately.’_

 

_The man’s usually jolly voice was gone, replaced by barely veiled fury and disgust, and a cold ball of dread bloomed in Mycroft’s chest._

 

_‘Text me the address Detective'_

 

_He replied in a colourless voice._

  

_'I’ll be there as soon as I can.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	13. Remains To Be Seen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg enlists Sherlock to help him with a bafflingly gory case.

 

#  ♢Chapter Thirteen♢

# ♢Remains To Be Seen♢

 

 

 

Sherlock had been deep in thought when the door of the flat banged open and there were hurried footsteps on the stairs, he looked up with a start as Greg Lestrade burst into the room panting and looking pale and drawn.

 

‘I need you...Will you come?’

 

Sherlock hesitated for a fraction of a second and took in the sight of the man's ashen face; something horrible must have happened and he found that he could not refuse the stricken detective.

 

‘Yes, of course, what is it?’

 

Asked Sherlock, spring gracefully from his chair and throwing down a case file he’d been reading, Greg took a deep shaky breath and scrubbed the palm of his hand over his mouth.

 

‘Well, it's not something I've ever come across before.........There were gallons of blood...Sprayed all over the walls and floor of a shipping container filled with shop mannequins, a security guard was on his morning rounds down at the docks and saw bloodstains all over the door and lock of the container he called in someone to come down and break the lock... and then came face to face with that.....Poor Bastards...Sally and I drove out to the dockyard with the forensics team.....Literal bloodbath.'

 

He shuddered and looked around the room. 

 

‘Where’s John?’

 

‘He’s dropping Rosie off with Molly for the night, So what do we know?'

 

Asked Sherlock in a grim voice, Greg sighed and felt a headache stirring behind his eyes. 

  

'Next to nothing, this case has everyone at the yard really freaked out Sherlock and we obviously haven't even scratched the surface...'

 

Sherlock nodded sharply and strode over to the coat rack; he donned his trench coat like armour and knotted the deep blue scarf around his pale throat.

 

‘What about fingerprints?'

 

Greg blew out a breath, shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets.

 

'So far forensics haven't found any fingerprints or fibres., the container and mannequins were absolutely drenched in semi-coagulated blood, but, the blood is human, we know that much, we had the lab run a sample and it contained multiple blood types...Which means...There’s obviously more than one victim.’

 

Sherlock frowned and fiddled with his scarf.

 

‘Well, the obvious alternative would be that this is some sort of depraved prank...Perhaps the blood was stolen from blood banks and it’s somebody’s idea of a sick joke...’

 

There were more footsteps coming on the stairs now, the door flew open to reveal Sally Donovan, her face was very pale and she looked to be on the verge of nausea.

 

‘I just got off the phone with an officer........There’s been a...Um.’

 

Greg pulled his hands out of his pockets and bounded over to stare at her.

 

‘Talk to me, Donovan! Who? What? Where?’

 

Greg’s desperate voice bounced around the newly decorated sitting room, Sally shrank back and stared at Sherlock, her eyes were like looking into a dark abyss, she bit her lip and took a shaky breath.

 

'I don't know much, the officer didn't give a lot of details...but I heard enough to know that something dreadful had happened...He was calling from an old hospital.....Just outside London...There are already multiple officers at the scene......Some kids were ghost hunting and thought it would be a good idea to break in...

 

Sally shuddered and then slowly turned her head to look at him, he took a deep shaky breath and stared him down.

 

‘It's bad, Greg.’

 

Greg’s eyebrows rose slightly as she used his first name but he forgave the transgression as he looked at her horrified face, she glanced at Sherlock with an almost pleading look on her face, she closed her eyes, took another deep breath and willed her stomach to settle.

 

‘Sherlock....There...I said your bloody name...It kills me to have to say this to you of all people....But....We fucking need you....Those poor kids.'

 

An almost inaudible sob wracked her thin body and she sagged against the wall, Sherlock’s mind was too full; the sound of sirens pierced the awful silence and a jolt of nervous adrenaline seemed to explode throughout the room they followed Sally silently down the stairs to the front door and slipped soundlessly out into the cold evening air, as usual, Sherlock refused to travel in the police car and hailed a cab, Greg frowned and turned to Sally, he placed an awkward hand on her shoulder and she flinched slightly.

 

‘Look, I’m going to ride with Sherlock, you go with the others and we’ll meet you there.’

 

Sally bit her lip again and hesitated, Greg sighed and closed his eyes.

 

‘That’s an order, Sergeant Donovan!’

 

He snapped, a little impatiently, Sally squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath to somewhat calm herself and then she was running to the waiting police car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. :)


	14. There Are No Words.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg comes face to face with something truly awful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is EXTREMELY graphic and contains content that is NOT suitable for people who are squeamish. Seriously. I'm not fucking around. If you aren't comfortable with graphic descriptions of mutilated bodies then this ain't for you.
> 
>  
> 
>  

# ♢Chapter Fourteen♢

# ♢There Are No Words.♢

 

 

 

The drive to the scene seemed to take a very long time, the cab was completely silent, Greg stared fixedly at his shoes, His whole body was tense and his mind was racing; what was waiting for him? He wondered, trying hard to breathe evenly and focus on his job.

Sherlock was gazing out of the window with a far-off look in his eyes; his long fingers were steepled beneath his chin and his mouth was set in a thin line as he too wondered what horrors he would find when they reached their destination, they pulled into the car park of an ominous looking abandoned hospital, long forgotten and shabby with age, It was a bleak and desolate place, a place that was perfect for the darkest souls in society to conduct their hellish acts.

Sherlock was uncomfortably familiar with abandoned buildings, he had intense flashes of memories buried deep in his many oubliettes; Images of large, dark, dirty rooms; littered with awful paraphernalia, Memories of stumbling bleary-eyed past those other wretched husks of humans that sought out the sweet sting of the needle, he shuddered and took a deep, calming breath as they climbed out of the cab. 

Greg muttered a hasty apology to the bewildered cabbie and tipped him with a crisp 50 pound note, The hospital loomed ominously against the barren, concrete landscape and instantly Sherlock was filled with a sense of pure dread. He wished that John was here with him.

The gravel crunched behind them and they looked up to see Sally walking stiffly towards them; She looked for a moment like she was going to throw up; but then she marched past them towards the swarm of forensic workers and police officers the coroner was on his knees over by a clump of bushes violently throwing up between bouts of hysterical sobbing.

 

Definitely not a good omen.

 

Sherlock took a deep breath and followed her, leaving Greg staring at their retreating forms with a sense of impending doom; He let a breath out through his nose and looked around to make sure no one was watching him; He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flask, he took a long gulp of good scotch that burned all the way down into his chest and made him shudder slightly, he then pulled out his pack of cigarettes and sparked one up, relishing the burn in his lungs.

Then he glanced over at the chaotic crime scene, every person he saw enter or exit the building had a haunted, disgusted expression on their face; He flicked his gaze to the group of officers huddled by the edge of the car park; some were hugging each other and sobbing whilst others were throwing up into the surrounding shrubbery, Greg realised that these were the first officers on the scene, he knew most of them and some of them were veterans of crime scenes and seeing them in such a state frightened him more than anything that had happened so far.

 

Shit, It must be really bad.

 

He took another deep drag of his half-finished cigarette and flicked it away, he took one last gulp of scotch from his flash and stowed it back in his coat, before squaring his shoulders and marching purposefully towards the hospital door.

The interior of the hospital was even eerier than the outside, dirty graffitied walls that might have once been green with faded blue linoleum that was worn smooth by the endless pattering of long gone feet, the windows were dirty, some were cracked and others were completely shattered the skeletal outlines of wheelchairs and gurneys littered his path and cast Erie shadows on the walls.

Greg's breath stained the cold, musty air in silvery whisps as he tiptoed down the seemingly endless corridor, he pulled out a small torch and flipped it on to better light the way to whatever hellish thing awaited him in at the end of the crime scene tape, he wondered the labyrinthine hallways following the line of blue tape, it seemed stark and out of place on the dirty walls; He shone his torch onto a faded blue plaque that was barely clinging to the wall, It read Operating Suite A with an arrow pointing straight ahead; he swallowed nervously and blew a hard breath out through his nose, He rounded the corner and almost tripped over someone.

 

It was Anderson.

 

He was paper white and slumped on the floor against the grimy wall with a trail of vomit on his chin and shirt; he was trembling all over and staring at the opposite wall with a haunted, catatonic look on his tearstained face.

 

'Shit....Anderson....'

 

Greg slowly lowered himself to one knee in from of him and looked at him with a worried expression on his face, at first, Anderson seemed to look straight through him, Greg gently placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched away as if he'd been burned.

 

'Phil.........Are you alright?' 

 

Greg realised that it was a pretty fucking stupid question to ask but he couldn't think of anything else to say, Anderson made a small sound and raised a trembling hand to point at the seemingly innocent double door, he looked like he was on the verge of tears; his shoulders shook violently and his lower lip quivered, he let out a choked sob and tears began to pour down his cheeks and suddenly he lurched forwards onto his hands and knees and threw up again.

Greg took out his phone again to send for an ambulance crew to come and get Anderson...But of course, there was no fucking signal. He felt like he was trapped in a fucking horror movie, he swore harshly under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

'I'm really sorry Phil but I have to go in there...I promise I won't be in there too long and as soon as I'm done in there I'll get you out of this fucking horrible place and seen to by the paramedics...I promise.'

 

Anderson didn't say anything and just continued to throw up, a cold ball of dread settled in Greg's chest as he eyed the heavy double doors, he placed one hand flat on the cold grimy metal and closed his eyes, trying so hard to be brave...He looked hesitantly through the circular window high on the door of the theatre but he could only see a patch of remarkably clean wall, it was a stark contrast against the filthy graffitied walls outside.

 

He didn't like this...Not one fucking bit.

 

With some effort, he pushed open the door, he was instantly met with the sickly sweet and unmistakable stench of Death...The kind of foul, noxious stench that never comes out of your clothes.

 

He gagged and reached into his pocket for a jar of Vic’s vaporub that he carried with him at all times, he hastily rubbed some around the rims of his nostrils and steeled himself for what he was about to see.

The operating theatre was brightly lit by the harsh glare of strobe lighting on pristine white walls; there was the familiar crime scene tape, but that's where the familiarities ended. A large red velvet curtain was draped across one side of the room.

 

Anf for the second time today, he almost tripped over somebody; but this time the person in question was Sergeant Donovan, she was slumped on the floor apparently unconscious and there was a small pool of vomit beside her.

 

‘Jesus, Sally!’

 

Greg bent down to pull her up into a sitting position against the pristine white wall and checked her pulse, just out, still breathing, e turned back to face the room and almost screamed as he came face to face with Sherlock. He looked like he’d aged ten years, there was a dark, haunted look in his eyes..A hollow, dead look that was like looking out from the inside of a grave...

 

A second later Sherlock lifted up the unconcious form of Sally in his arms and hurried silently out of the room, Greg stood alone in the wretched silence, he wanted desperately to see what lurked behind the shroud of the blood red curtain..But he was afraid.

Very slowly, he edged closer to the awful unknown, he blew out a harsh breath and then drew back the curtain with one trembling hand.

 

There are acts committed in this world that are so heinous and unforgivable that we do not have the capacity to immediately process them, the sight that assaulted Greg's eyes was truly terrible to behold...An unadulterated glimpse into the darkest, most depraved corners of the human mind. 

  

A steel tray laden with razor-sharp surgical instruments was stood to one side glimmering coldly in the harsh light.  

 

'Well.'

 

Thought Greg bitterly.

 

'At the very least........'

 

He now knew where all the blood had come from 

 

 

 

 

  

Suspended from the ceiling of the room were six b _odies.’_ All had been severely mutilated...These had once been living, breathing people...Now they were like nothing human... 

 

The victims' skins had been neatly flayed with surgical precision, leaving only the dark red flesh and muscles, the limbs had been removed, swapped around and then stitched back onto the torsos with thick black thread, there were strings attached to each of the hands and feet to make them look like grotesque puppets and the torsos of each body were gutted and severely mutilated in the signature ‘Bloody eagle' A Viking execution method that was performed by slicing open the back of the victim, then hacking the ribs away from the spine, causing them to spring apart to resemble bloody wings

 

Greg was suddenly thankful for the lack of actual blood or internal organs.

 

The heads were also missing from each victim, and stitched to the neck where the missing head would have been was a taxidermy deer head, complete with antlers and cold glass eyes, they stared down at him and made him shudder.

 

Some people in this world deserve to die...But nobody deserved this. 

 

Greg suddenly found himself running from the room as if he was being chased by the devil himself, he hauled Phil up by the collar of his sick covered jumper and dragged him along with him; The dull green walls were a blur as he sprinted down the winding hallways, Phil was barely able to keep up as Greg dragged him, stumbling and almost falling several times until at last, they made it to the safety of the outside world; He threw open the door and gulped in great lung-fulls of fresh air, Phil fell to his knees on the top step outside and threw up yet again; an ambulance crew was already hurrying forward to greet them.

Greg felt dizzy and faint, the air was filled with the noise of police radios and the constant blare of sirens, the paramedics seemed to be moving in slow motion as they ran towards them; suddenly, the pavement seemed to fly up towards his face in a rush of swirling colour and then...Everything went black.

   

At first, there was nothing and then, very, very slowly the beginnings of sounds began to filter into Greg's foggy brain, a sterile smell filled his nose, his head hurt and he could feel blood dripping down his face; his vision was blurry but already, he could make out his surroundings.

 

And then he was screaming, he was in an ambulance lying on a gurney.....Like the ones inside that awful place, everything so pristine and clinical...

A hand squeezed his shoulder and he defensively swung his right fist into his would-be murderers face; he heard a crunch and a muffled shout of pain, he sat bolt upright and pressed himself as far back on the gurney as he could; he stared around the claustrophobic interior of the ambulance and took in deep, ragged breaths.

An indignant paramedic was hastily reaching for a roll of paper towels to staunch the rapid flow of blood from his newly broken nose, Greg blurted out a hurried apology before literally springing out of the ambulance.

 

He didn't see the oncoming police car.

 

   

 

 

 

John pulled up to the scene with a sinking feeling in his stomach; He'd received a phone call from Mycroft; he'd spoken in a very sombre voice, a voice that John understood.

 

Something truly awful must have happened.

 

He'd hailed a cab straight from Molly's and sat through the longest ride of his life; when he'd finally arrived he was shocked to see how many police cars and forensic teams had already assembled; there was blue tape covering the front perimeter of the deserted building, Sherlock was hunched against a railing smoking a cigarette with a shaky hand and his beautiful eyes looked hollow and dead.

 

'Oh god, Sherlock!'

 

John hurried over to him; Sherlock flicked away his cigarette and threw himself at John, moulding his whole body around him; he was trembling and breathing shallowly, John couldn't even find the heart to chastise him for smoking; he simply held him and stroked his unruly hair; gradually Sherlock's trembling lessened and he let out a shuddering breath that smelled of toothpaste and cigarettes, John didn't even mind.

 

'Don't go in there John.'

 

Sherlock's voice was dull and slightly hoarse.

 

 

'Mycroft said there's been a murder, he didn't really give me any details.'

 

Sherlock made a noise halfway between a laugh and a retch. 

 

'A murder? John, Within that building lies something much more vile and depraved than just a murder...Bodies, John, six of them, flayed.....Jumbled up and stitched back together...Mutilated and suspended like puppets.....The heads are missing.....Replaced with........Fucking deer heads'

 

John felt his stomach churn, gripped the wall and closed his eyes.

 

'Oh, Jesus.'

  

He groaned, pressing his hand over his mouth, behind them came the sound of a door being hurriedly flung open, John and Sherlock turned to see what was going on, Greg Lestrade sprang out of the back of an ambulance white-faced and panting; he stumbled and began to run blindly towards them; there was a screech of breaks as a howling police car stopped a foot short of possibly killing him, John's brain seemed to switch to autopilot as he ran forward towards the stricken detective; He gripped him around his shoulders and swung him around into the side of a police van  

 

‘Greg, It's alright, you're safe.’

 

John said in a low, soothing voice, Greg's breathing was short and frantic as he babbled against his shoulder. 

 

'It is NOT alright John!!! It's not....It's not........'

 

John pulled back and cupped the side of Greg's quivering jaw.

 

'I know, that you've seen terrible, terrible things in that building but you're going to be okay Greg...Breathe.....Just breathe.'

 

Greg couldn’t help it, he let out a choked whimper then he collapsed against John's chest and sobbed, John simply held him and allowed him to cry into his jacket; He didn't mind it when Greg threw his arms around him, he staggered slightly but held Greg tight as he continued to gasp and let out a mantra of broken curses.

Greg was beginning to feel faint again and this time, he didn't fight the black fog creeping over him and this time he welcomed it...It was if he was sinking...Deep....Deep Down, Into the welcoming darkness


	15. Greg.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg wakes up in an unfamiliar place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that super evil cliffhanger guys, I know that it was a dick move, I finally got my shit together and wrote a new chapter.
> 
> I hope you like it and I also hope that I didn't make y'all board the Nope train after the last chapter
> 
>  
> 
> So yeah, I'm so mean to Greg.
> 
>  
> 
> Don't worry though.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm about to make the Mystrade Shippers Very happy...
> 
>  
> 
> .....Or very angry because I'm so mean to Greg.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

# ♢Chapter Fifteen♢

 

 

# ♢Greg♢

 

 

 

 

Greg awoke alone and in an unfamiliar place, but this time there was no sterile smell choking him and there was no dreadful medical equipment, the room was softly lit and he was in a remarkably comfortable bed that smelled of fabric softener, he sat up quickly and stared around the room; it was spotlessly clean and lavishly decorated.

 

'Where the fuck am I ?'

 

He muttered to himself, his eyes shot down to the striped cotton pyjamas he was now wearing and he gaped in confusion.

 

‘What the fuck?’

 

He mumbled, pulling at the soft fabric, he pulled back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed; It made him feel dizzy and he took a deep breath to calm himself as flashes of the awful things he’d seen assaulted his already weary mind, he was over the shock of it now. Now that reality of the situation had sunk in he found he felt only horror, rage and disgust.

He wanted to find the twisted creature that had done this and....No. He would not allow himself to entertain that thought a second longer. It was beneath him. 

He got to his feet with a grunt and felt intense pain in his shoulder and thigh and he had a headache, Oh, that’s right, he’d faceplanted in the car park, right after he’d come out of the Hospital.....He felt bile rising in his throat and lurched for the en-suite bathroom.

He collapsed against the toilet bowl and violently voided the contents of his stomach onto the sparkling porcelain, he spat a few times and tried to catch his breath; His shoulders were shaking and tears leaked down his face, he slid down onto the cold tiled floor with a small sob.

Finally, after what seemed a very long time, he shakily pulled himself to his feet and stumbled over to the sink, he purposely avoided his reflection because he was afraid of what he would see. Would his eyes now resemble the inside of a grave? Just as Sherlock's had?

He filled the sink with icy water and sunk his face beneath the surface; He held his breath in his lungs and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to be Detective Inspector Lestrade..Why the fuck did he have to be Detective Inspector Lestrade?

He pulled himself to the surface and took in a shuddering breath, the water dripped down his face and onto his neck, staining parts of the collar and chest with transparent patches, he didn’t care, the cool droplets were pleasant on his feverish skin, he drained the sink and padded back into the bedroom to make up the mystery bed, He felt oddly at home. Jesus. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  

He hunted around for his clothes but they were nowhere to be seen; he frowned slightly and scanned the room again, there was a nondescript garment bag hanging from the back of the door with a piece of lilac parchment stuck to it with clear tape, intrigued, Greg wondered over to it and tore off the note, it was written in beautiful copperplate.

   

_Detective Inspector Lestrade._

_I did not think that you would be eager to don those putrid smelling clothes ever again, they have been disposed of in the appropriate manner, I hope that you will find the articles in this bag to your liking..._ _Consider them a gift._

_I did not want to wake you as you seemed in need of rest, I shan’t be home until seven o'clock but feel free to shower and relax if you wish, you've certainly earned it._

P.S.

There’s a particularly nice bottle of scotch located in the drinks cabinet in the Living room downstairs, It is at your disposal.

 

Mycroft Holmes.


	16. Alone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg takes a shower and.......Oh forget it. 
> 
> If you've stuck with me this long then you know what this chapter is about.
> 
>  
> 
> Yes, you.
> 
>  
> 
> Huehuehue. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love an erotic shower scene layered with overtones of guilt and self-loathing?
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so Sorry Greg.

 

# ♢Chapter Sixteen♢

# ♢Alone♢

 

 

 

 

 

Greg read the letter over again and again, but each time he just felt more and more bewildered, finally, he decided that he’d questioned far too much today and took up the offer of a good, hot shower, when he entered the bathroom again he was pleasantly surprised by how nice it looked now that he wasn’t retching into the sparkling porcelain lavatory.

The walls were royal blue and they were adorned with rows of dark wooden shadow boxes containing hundreds of pristinely preserved butterflies of all colours, shapes and sizes, the dark granite tiles had particles of what looked like glitter embedded in them.

 

‘Probably crushed up diamonds...The posh sod.’

 

Greg muttered with a soft grin. The action felt wrong. But he couldn’t help it. He was grateful for any distraction right now.

He stripped off the borrowed pyjamas and tried not to overthink the fact that he was naked beneath them, It took him a few minutes and a fair amount of muttered swear words; but finally he figured out how to work the ridiculously complicated shower that had rows of jets embedded into the tiles, his frustrated muttering ceased quite abruptly as the streams of perfectly warm water cascaded against his tense body.

He couldn’t help the soft grunt of pleasure as the water began to loosen the knots and kinks in his back and neck, he peered through the billowing clouds of steam and picked up a very expensive looking bottle of shower gel from the gold shower caddy fixed to the wall; he flipped it open and a rich, decadent scent filled his nostrils, a smell so good that it almost made him forget the stench of the crime scene...Almost.

Greg pushed that last thought out of his mind and focused on identifying each of the heavenly scents; Bergamot and sweet orange oil, moss and an unidentifiable masculine scent that was unctuous and decadent, It smelled absolutely delicious, he spread the deep amber liquid onto his chest and shoulders; breathing in the multi-layered scent and enjoying the sound of the pounding water against his skin.

He hissed sharply as it came into contact with the side of his face; he gently touched the area just above his cheekbone and hissed again as he discovered a good deal of bruising; He let his head fall back against the tiles and scrubbed a soap covered hand through his slick silver hair; he absentmindedly smoothed the shower gel down his abdomen and gasped as he felt the thick heavy suds slide down over his cock; to his abject mortification, he felt himself becoming hard. 

It made him feel like some sort of sick pervert as his breath caught when the bubbles spread down his taut thighs and the rich, heady steam was filling him up like a drug, he tried his best to ignore the hot feeling trickling into his gut, eroding his patience like waves against a shoreline, he sighed heavily and gripped his half hard cock, he would go no further than that.

 

He was in control...He was a liar.....A sick, perverted liar.

 

With a frustrated growl, he drizzled his cock with more of the shower gel, set it back in the shower caddy and squeezed himself at the base, asoft moan escaped from between his slightly parted lips and he began to stroke himself; gently at first, but then he began to quicken his pace, unable to stop himself, he was, not entirely against his will, or his better judgement......Imagining a certain man was here with him in the shower.

A man with a dry, sarcastic yet lilting voice...He imagined the way his hands would feel running down his back and gripping his arse.........Imagined the noises he would make.....

His chest was soon heaving, short, ragged pants filled the steamy air and he balled his free hand into a fist and shoved it into his mouth to quiet himself, he arched forward off the tiles at let out a barely stifled moan against his fist as his broad thumb swept over the slick head of his cock, his eyes fluttered shut and his head dropped back against the cool tiles, his muscular hips were almost keeping time with his fist now and a slow, rising heat was spreading through his abdomen and groin.

 

 It was so...SO WRONG...But he desperately needed a to feel something.

 

His breathing hitched as he pulled his slick fist over the head of his cock and he whimpered louder than he intended to, he was too far gone care about anyone hearing him and pressed his head back against the tiles with a moan; there was pressure and heat building in his groin and abdomen, which signalled that Greg was about to go over the edge.

With one final thrust into his slick hand, his eyes snapped shut and his mouth fell open and with a decadent moan; his hips jutted forward sharply and his cock twitched and shot thick ropes of come onto his abdomen and fist, he gasped for breath and collapsed back against the wall with his heart hammering in his ears, still moaning softly through the aftershock of his orgasm.

He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as all evidence of his shameful act disappeared down the drain and for just a few seconds he felt nothing but relief as all of his tight muscles relaxed, he very much wanted a cigarette and at least half of the aforementioned scotch...

Greg let out a long breath and shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm, he couldn't have guessed in a million years that on the other side of the very wall he was slumped against...Was Mycroft Holmes.

He'd come to check on Greg to make sure he hadn't injured himself again and had heard the sound of the shower; he glanced towards the door of the ensuite bathroom and moved silently over to stand in front of it, he swallowed hard as he heard a loud moan from the other side. Delicious, but highly Improper images began to filter into his mind.

His face remained an unreadable mask...But his white-knuckle grip on the tented crotch of his expensive suit trousers rather gave the game away.

 

When the door of the bathroom clicked open there was nobody in the room.

 

Greg was alone.

 

He had a thick white towel wrapped around his hips and another around his neck and he absentmindedly tousled his hair, he glanced over at the carriage clock standing on a low, mahogany table and his breathing stuttered.

 

 

'Oh bloody hell.'

 

 

The clock read 7:17.

 

 

 

 

 


	17. Uncharted Territories.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It think it's about time I was nice to Greg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys, I Finally wrenched myself away from Supernatural juuust long enough to write a followup chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Again, sorry for yet another cliffhanger.
> 
>  
> 
> I know, I'm a sadist,
> 
>  
> 
> Things now shift to some smutty Mystrade for a few chapters.
> 
>  
> 
> I told you it was coming.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy.

 

# ♢Chapter Seventeen♢

# ♢Uncharted Territories♢

 

 

 

 

 

Greg swore under his breath and hoped he had not been too loud.

 

Oh, the shame.

  

He felt his cheeks redden and he moaned into the towel, he sat on the bed for a while with his head buried deep in the warm Egyptian cotton like a traumatised ostrich.

He sighed and realised he was being ridiculous and in any case, he couldn’t hide up here forever, he lifted the towel from his face and glanced suspiciously at the garment bag still in place on the back of the door.

 

‘Come on Greg; pull yourself together.’ 

 

His voice sounded small, there was little left of his strong tone of authority and it lacked all conviction, he blew out a breath and got to his feet anyway, he gingerly unhooked the bag and lay it down on the bed, eyeing it as if it might contain another body instead of clothes.

 

‘Oh for fuck sake.’ 

 

He growled; locating the cold metal zipper and tugging it down, he’d been dreading a stuffy suit, but found that he was pleasantly surprised at the items in the bag;

There was a light grey linen shirt complete with a matching dark grey waistcoat that had a beautiful silk pattern swirling on the back; There was also a pair of well-tailored slacks that greatly appealed to him, his breath hitched as his fingers moved over a pair of black silk boxers.

He didn’t know whether to be horrified or flattered.

He discovered he was more than flattered as he glanced down at the towel around his waist, what the fuck was going on? When had he turned back into a hormone-addled teenager?

He stood for a few minutes, focusing on his breathing until the problem went away, he dressed with trembling hands, still not looking at himself in the large gilded mirror on the wall, he came to the conclusion that he was again being ridiculous. He was a bloody grown man.

He risked a peek at himself through his fingers and let out a surprised and relieved breath, sure, the left side of his face was a little swollen and bruised but other than that he appeared to look like himself, he removed his hands from his face and the ghost of a laugh huffed out of his chest.

 

'Not like the inside of a grave.'

 

He whispered with a sigh of relief, he looked himself over in more detail now and was rather pleased with the way the expensive fabric clung to his muscular frame; He scrubbed up pretty well, all things considered, he took another deep breath and began the slow walk to the door. He felt safe in here. He didn’t know why. He just did.

  

Mercifully this door opened silently, not leading onto a gruesome sight but onto a well-lit hallway, he grinned at the sight of several large gleaming suits of armour.

 

‘The posh sod.’ 

 

Greg repeated under his breath, the polished wooden stairs gave him a birds-eye view of the sitting room below, It was lavishly decorated but a little regal for his taste, he froze on the top step as he heard the muffled scratch of a page turning somewhere below him his heart was beating so fast that he was convinced Mycroft could hear it, he tiptoed whisper quietly down the stairs and heard the telltale ‘whump’ of a closing book.

 

Well, There was no turning back now.


	18. Goldfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary you say? Well alright then, I'll be blunt. 
> 
> Fancy clothes. High-end Scotch. Erotic smoking SEXUAL TENSION.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Apologises for a cliffhanger*
> 
>  
> 
> *Writes another cliffhanger.
> 
>  

# ♢Chapter Eighteen: Goldfish♢

 

 

Greg rounded the corner and found Mycroft seated in a high backed oxford, he was holding a crystal cut tumbler up to the light of a roaring fire and examining the polished obsydian cubes in the bottom of it with a faraway look in his eyes, Greg cleared his throat and Mycroft's light blue eyes flicked up at the sound.

A flash of intense emotion crackled within them...or maybe it was just the light from the fire, for a second it seemed as if the man’s eyes were seeing into his soul, he saw him swallow unconsciously before arranging his face into a friendly expression.

 

‘Good evening Detective...I hope that you're feeling a little better and that you found the clothes to your liking.’

 

His voice seemed a little lower than usual but Greg just put it down to weariness. They’d all been through so much today.

A lingering silence passed between them and then at last Mycroft spoke again.

  

‘Where are my manners...Please, sit down...John told me that you are rather fond of  good scotch and cigarettes.’

 

Greg's lip quirked slightly, he would have to thank John for that later, he dropped into the empty seat opposite Mycroft, Mycroft filled Greg's tumbler and slid it across the polished table towards him before refilling his own glass and holding it to his nose; he inhaled deeply with a contented sigh, Greg raised an eyebrow but picked up the fine crystal glass and pressed his lips to the rim, he tipped it back and took a sip of the scotch.

 

‘Mother of God...’ 

 

He almost moaned.

 

‘What is this and how can I replace my entire blood volume with it?’

 

To Greg's surprise, Mycroft chuckled softly and regarded him over the edge of his glass, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them, there would be no talk of the days harrowing events.

 

Greg couldn’t take it...He’d go insane....The only thing he wanted to do right now was sit here drinking beautiful scotch by the fire and talk about literally anything else, the hand holding the tumbler shook slightly as he took a more substantial gulp to fortify himself.

Mycroft pulled out a silver cigarette case and took out two rather expensive looking cigarettes; he passed one to him and their fingers briefly brushed, Invisible electricity sparked from the contact, It was only a second but Gregg felt his skin burn, he placed the filter tip to his bottom lips and reflexively patted himself down for a lighter, he realised what he’d just done and he felt foolish, Mycroft didn't laugh, instead, he smiled softly and tilted his head to one side.

  

'Old habits die hard eh?'

 

There was a hint of a grin on his usually reserved face and Greg huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

 

‘Oh sod off posh boy.’

 

He growled, sipping his scotch, Mycroft raised his eyebrows and spoke in a mock indignant tone.

 

‘You wound me, Inspector!’

 

Greg let out a booming laugh that sounded much more familiar to him, Mycroft grinned and leaned forward; For a moment Greg’s heart stopped beating and time seemed to slow down, then there was a flash of flame and the smell of petrol as Mycroft offered to light his cigarette.

Greg didn’t know why he found it so charming, but something about the chivalry made him grin; Greg took a deep and much-needed drag from the cigarette; He leaned his head back against the leather chair and closed his eyes as he exhaled the smoke with a sigh, a thought floated through his mind and he was asking a question before he’d realised what he’d said.

  

‘How exactly...Did I end up in those pyjamas Mycroft?’ 

 

Even in the red light of the fire, Gregg could see colour rising in Mycroft's face.

  

‘I assume you don’t remember how you got here?’

  

Greg took another deep drag and eyed Mycroft warily.

 

‘I don’t remember anything after I got out of there.’ 

 

His tone was clipped and he could feel panic rising in his chest, Mycroft looked alarmed and leaned forward in his chair.

  

‘Shall I  spare you the details and get straight to the point?’ 

 

Greg took another sip of scotch and nodded stiffly, Mycroft leaned back in the chair again and sparked up his own cigarette, he took a deep drag and then blew it out again, the smoke curled in thick grey tendrils and drifted gently up towards the ceiling.

It was fascinating to watch Mycroft Holmes smoke.

 

‘You were...well...Catatonic and You were almost struck by a police car going at thirty miles an hour...Thankfully Doctor Watson had arrived at the crime scene and had the good grace to quite literally pull you out of harm's way. An ambulance brought the two of us here to my house...As I mentioned in the letter I wrote to you, Your clothes were ruined and the paramedics removed them to be disposed of. off.....I, of course, averted my eyes as they did so.'

'They dressed you in a hospital gown and I.......I didn't want you to wake up wearing...You've suffered enough already without another reminder of that dreadful place.....'

 

Mycroft sighed and took a sip of his drink before continuing.

 

'They carried you upstairs to one of my guestrooms and asked if I had anything more appropriate to dress you in; I apologise that it had to be without undergarments.......I left the room while they did so to preserve your modesty.'

 

Greg was almost floored by the influx of information, he felt both mortified and somehow strangely touched by the gesture; It was...kind...Not a word usually used to describe Mycroft Holmes, a whole minuted ticked by before Greg suddenly moaned and pressed a hand over his mouth as another memory flashed back into his mind.

 

'Oh buggering Christ!!!

 

Mycroft leaned forward and eyed him with concern.

 

‘What is it? Are you feeling alright?’

 

Greg's voice was muffled against his hand, but Mycroft heard him loud and clear thanks to his superior hearing.

 

‘I may or may not...... Have chinned a paramedic.' 

  

There was a fragile pause as Greg looked up from his hands and grinned guiltily.

 

'I think I broke the poor sod's nose!' 

 

Mycroft snorted and let out a genuine bark of laughter at the look on the detective's handsome face and then Greg was laughing too, his whole frame shook as he threw back his head and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

 

They really....REALLY...Shouldn’t be laughing at a time like this...But it honestly felt so good...So cleansing...The laughter chased away the monsters that lurked around every corner in his mind. 

 

'You have a very lovely laugh, Inspector.'

 

Greg dissolved back into giggled at the absurdity of the compliment.

 

'Pardon?'

 

Mycroft blushed slightly and seemed to falter for something to say.

 

'I merely meant that your laugh is quite....infectious...Oh, bloody hell! I'm making such a fool of myself!'

 

 

Mycroft didn't get a chance to finish his stammered apology before Greg leaned forward and gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, Mycroft froze as Greg tentatively studied his face with an unreadable expression and then that gorgeous half smile that he often did, lit up his face...Not that Mycroft had ever taken note of such things...Well...He'd never been caught.

    

'That...has got to be..the worst fucking chat up line I have ever heard.'

 

Greg chuckled into the small space between them. 

 

'Oh fuck off.' 

 

Said Mycroft with a grin.

 

Greg raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. 

 

'Ooh, cheeky!'

 

Mycroft growled, pulled back and got to his feet, With little warning, he pulled Greg up from his seat and pinned him up against a nearby wall with surprising ease and then he crushed their lips together, Greg responded with all the ferocity he could muster; practically melting into the kiss; he'd thought if it was either of them, it would be he who made the first move.

The fact that Mycroft had been the one to do it made Greg feel incredibly turned on, he pulled away from the kiss and nipped Mycroft's bottom lip.

 

'Well you're full of surprises aren't you?'

 

He tried his best to keep his voice nonchalant but wasn't entirely convinced that he'd been successful, Mycroft chuckled and looked Gregg dead in the eye.

 

'You have no idea.'

 

Mycroft was unable to reply as Greg reversed their positions with as much ease as he had done, a priceless bust of some description was teetering precariously atop a marble plinth. It could smash for all he cared, he pushed Mycroft's hands up over his head and pressed their chests flush together, the beautiful image of Greg looming over him sent an intense thrill through his trembling body. 

 

'I'll tell you another thing that will surely surprise you.'

 

Mycroft's voice was low and rough against the skin of Greg's neck; he let out a moan as Mycroft bit down softly.

  

'I'm all ears, Mr Homes.' 

 

Mycroft groaned and bit down harder into his neck and rough growl shot past Greg's clenched teeth...This was Mycroft Holmes...Always so prim and proper...He probably poured tea for the fucking queen.....Yet here he was, biting down on Greg's neck and growling like an animal.  

 

This was a really...REALLY...Fucked up day.

 

'Well...What were you going to tell me?'

 

Greg's voice was low and gravelly and he was intensely turned on, Mycroft smirked and pressed his lips to the shell of Greg's ear.

 

'I overheard...Certain things...Whilst you were in the shower.'  

 

Greg moaned and was pleased to find that it was from arousal rather than embarrassment, he decided to tease Mycroft a little.

 

'Did you enjoy hearing me moan?'

 

Mycroft's eyes widened slightly, clearly thrown at the brazen question, Greg chuckled as Mycroft turned a fetching shade of pink.

 

'Yes.' 

 

Came his tight reply, Greg decided to tease a little more and released Mycroft's hands, he seized one of them no sooner than letting it loose and pressed it to the hard outline of his cock; He relished in Mycroft's hitching gasp and bucked his hips forward.

 

'You are a bloody tease Gregory Lestrade.' 

 

Greg chuckled and cocked his head to one side. 

 

'You have no idea.' 

 

Mycroft chuckled darkly as Greg repeated his earlier words and palmed him through the expensive silk.

   

'Let's move this to somewhere less...Priceless antiquey....'

 

Murmured Greg as the marble bust swayed ominously behind them.

 

'Ah, yes, I believe my mother is particularly fond of that one.' 

 

Greg shuddered and fixed Mycroft with a serious look.

 

'For the love of god, do not mention your mother again.....'

 

Mycroft went a fetching shade of pink and nodded.

 

'Apologies...Shall we take this upstairs?'

 

Greg grinned wolfishly and kissed Mycroft quickly on the lips.

 

'Mmh, that sounds lovely.'

  

'Are you sure that you want to do this...Greg?'

 

As soon a Greg Heard Mycroft Holmes say his first name in such a husky voice, his mind was entirely made up, his voice was low and strained as he looked Mycroft dead in the eye.

 

'You'd better hurry on up those stairs posh boy...Before I bloody drag you up them

 

  

 

 

To be continued in a future chapter, and now its time to switch back to the main storyline for a while.

 

 


	19. Where Is My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The house is quiet in the wake of the gruesome discovery at the Hospital.
> 
> Little is said and an intense brooding feeling slips over John and Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Sorry for not updating as much as I usually would. 
> 
> I've been struggling with depression pretty badly recently and as a result, I've been completely uninspired and plagued by the dreaded writer's block.
> 
> But I discovered that writing a chapter about Sherlock and John struggling to cope with what happened at the hospital would be a way for me to deal with my crippling depression.
> 
>  
> 
> As they say, misery loves company.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Comments and Kudos would be awesome :)

 

# ♢Chapter Nineteen: Where Is My Mind?♢

 

A strange and almost tangible silence had fallen over 221B since the dreadful discovery had been made at the abandoned hospital; the inescapable kind of silence that surrounds a recent death. Its thick oppressive presence hung heavy on the minds of it's disturbed occupants, there hadn't been much talk between them since they had arrived home from the scene, Sherlock had hurried into his bedroom and closed the door quietly, John knew better than to follow.

He felt like everything had slowed down to a crawl; he felt drained and weary from the day and wanted nothing more than to slip into blissful unconsciousness, he trudged up the stairs to his now almost disused bedroom, pulled off his clothes and fell onto the slightly dusty sheets with a muted thud; he scrubbed a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes, he hadn't seen the actual crime scene but he was now well aware of what those poor kid found in that operating theatre...But only something completely repugnant would make Sherlock's face look that way...Almost devoid of emotion aside from his wide haunted eyes, John pulled the covers up over his head and willed himself to go to sleep.

 

Sherlock closed the door to his bedroom and sagged against it with a shuddering breath; he closed his eyes tight and clenched his fists until they were bleached white with the strain, he slowly slid down the door and felt the weight of the day come crashing down on him in a savage rush; he reached into his jacket and pulled out his cigarettes and lighter; jammed a cigarette into his mouth and quickly lit up.

He took a long deep drag that burned all the way down and made his eyes water slightly; the nicotine rush made his head spin but he pushed on and finished it in five long pulls, he immediately lit another and smoked it with the same vigour until his lungs felt raw and his throat was scratchy, he got to his feet shakily and sunk down onto his bed, his sheets smelled like John, he focused on the smell and squeezed his eyes shut.

 

They couldn't even find respite in their dreams. What dreams? Neither of them had any pleasant dreams. Only nightmares and they were nothing short of terrifying.

John's were of horrors, past and present. Bloodstained deserts, flashes of operating theatres, dead bodies... and the image of a severed Deer's head atop a mutilated corpse, they blurred and shifted into images of filthy rooms with chains on the walls, the sounds of terrified whimpering and crying.

 

And screaming....So much screaming...The interrogation...The torture...The blood. 

 

 

'There's no point screaming, you traitorous piece of shit! I'm going to kill you, I'll make it last and I assure you, I'll make sure it's painful.'

 

 

Sherlock's dreams were no better than John's, he was locked in a hospital room and there was one of those...Things, hanging in the corner..The same Deer head with the cold glass eyes...The same grotesque bloody eagle and flayed skin...Only this time...There was blood...So much blood.

And then everything went black and the voices began to torment him, Images began to swirl in his mind's eye that he wished could have erased forever, Jim Moriarty looming over him with a wide grin on his face and Sherlock felt the words tumble from his mouth before he could stop them.

 

' _You_ … _You_  never  _felt_  pain did  _you_...Why did  _you_  never  _feel_  it?'

 

Jim fixed Sherlock with a dead-eyed expression and reached out to gently stroke his cheek, then his dark eyes flashed dangerously. 

 

_'You always feel_  it,  _Sherlock.._.'

 

_And then his voice was loud and rough, he pulled his hand back and then he slapped Sherlock hard across the face; each slap was punctuated by his sharp venom-filled words._

 

_'BUT. YOU. DON'T. HAVE. TO. FEAR. IT!!!'  
_

 

And then the dry, dead voice of his sister spoke softly in his ear.

 

'We have evolved to attach an emotional significance to what is nothing more than a survival strategy of the pack animal, We are conditioned to invest divinity in utility. Good isn't really good, evil isn't really wrong, bottoms aren't really pretty. You are a prisoner of your own meat.'

 

She spat the last sentence in his ear.

 

 

 'GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!!'

  

Suddenly, he was falling, Over the edge of the roof of Bart's, tumbling through the air toward the pavement below.

 

Sherlock started awake with a small cry and winced as his neck cracked unpleasantly, he was panting and covered in cold sweat, He noted with disgust that he was still fully dressed and his clothes felt clammy and stuck to his skin unpleasantly, they also smelled absolutely disgusting.

He got to his feet with a sigh and pressed his eyes closed tightly, he let out a shuddering breath and tried to force the awful images from his mind, he peeled off his dirty clothes and tossed them into his hamper, He slipped on a black silk robe, he needed to bathe, he needed to be clean.

 

He also needed a drink. SEVERAL drinks.

 

 

 

_Thick billowing steam issued from the large copper bath in the bathroom at 221B, It was dimly lit by large church candles and the soothing scents of lavender and warm cotton mixed with the heady smell of fresh rain and cool night air that was flowing in through the open window._

Sherlock was submerged beneath the water with his eyes closed tight; he could _feel the pressure rising in his chest as his lungs screamed for oxygen, finally, he relented and pushed to the surface with a sharp gasp, inhaling glorious perfumed air,_ _Water flowed over the side of the bath and soaked the surrounding linoleum tiles._

 

_'Four minutes and twenty-six seconds.’_

 

_He panted, sinking back into the water until it came up to his sternum; he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, he didn't even know where to start with this case; He was still recovering from Sherrinford and his body was so tired, he felt sluggish and drained and his mind was decidedly troubled, he couldn't get the terrible images out of his head._

_Those deer heads glaring down at him from atop the mutilated corpses made his stomach churn and his heart race, his left hand drifted over the rolled edge of the bath and closed around a tall crystal glass;_ _He pulled back and appraised, it. it was cool to the touch and frosted with condensation, a droplet of cold water dripped the bottom of it and landed on Sherlock’s chest, he hissed and quickly submerged deeper into the water._

_With his right hand he groped for a packet of cigarettes that he’d hidden in the linen closet a few months previously; he_ _extracted a cigarette and brought it to his lips; he held it against his bottom lip, located the battered old Zippo he’d had since uni and jerked it open with a quick flick of his wrist, He flicked his thumb over the grooved wheel and watched as the brilliant orange flame was mirrored on the glassy smooth surface of the water; a moment later he passed the licking flame over the tip of his cigarette and heard the crackle of burning tobacco._

_He took a deep drag and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, savouring the burn in his throat; he exhaled and let it float lazily from his mouth; he watched as it coiled and mingled with the steam, then he put the edge of the glass to his lips and tilted it slightly, the expensive scotch with lemon iced tea quelled the burn in his throat and was decidedly too drinkable, Sherlock had never been much of a drinker, but in light of recent event, he damn well needed one...or twelve._

H _e knew John would scold him for smoking...If he caught him, he smirked guiltily as he stubbed the now finished cigarette in a large crystal ashtray and immediately sparked up a fresh one; He found chain smoking terribly therapeutic, he sunk further into the depths of the warm water and closed his eyes again, he was just about to take another drag when the door opened a few inches and a slice of artificial light crawled across the tiled floor._

_Sherlock jumped slightly and held his breath; for a moment he thought maybe he was about to become the next victim of a psychotic serial killer, more water spilled over the edge of the tub and landed on the floor with a muted slapping sound, and a low chuckle pierced the damp air and Sherlock’s shoulders relaxed._

 

_‘So this is where you’ve been hiding then is it?’_

 

_John slipped into the room and closed the door softly; he padded over to the toilet and sat down on the closed lid, he looked very handsome through the haze of steam; shadows danced on his face and neck and his blue eyes shimmered in the low light of the candles, John eyed Sherlock's cigarette with a slight frown but then he sighed and rolled his eyes in muted exasperation, in that moment Sherlock had looked like a small child caught in the act of doing something naughty and made him smile despite himself._

 

_‘Don't worry, I’m not going to tell you off for smoking, I’m not your mother, you’re a grown man, you can make your own choices and right now you’re stressed.’_

 

_Sherlock raised his cigarette and took another drag._

 

_‘Thank you, John.’_

 

_He murmured in a grateful voice, John half smiled and got up to perch on the rim of the bath; whatever concoction Sherlock had put into the water smelled absolutely delicious, it smelled like a summer day after the rain, the thick bubbles lapped against Sherlock's pale skin and John felt a small burst of irritation at them for concealing the glorious body beneath, he levelled his thoughts and flicked his eyes to Sherlock's face; he was giving him a knowing smirk and his beautiful kaleidoscope eyes were shimmering with amusement._

 

_'See anything you like?'_

 

_He purred, tilting his head slightly so his damp ebony hair flopped over one eye and giving John a lopsided grin, John huffed out a small laugh as Sherlock used his earlier words against him and reached out a hand to push the wet hair off of Sherlock's face._

 

_'Mmh, too many bubbles for my liking, but I definitely like the bits I can see.'_

 

_Sherlock smiled a smile that made John's chest tighten with affection; He chuckled again and eyed the glass in Sherlock's hand._

_‘What’s that you’re drinking?’_

 

_'Scotch, with iced tea and lemon wedges, it’s dangerously good.’_

_John looked thoughtful for a moment and grinned at Sherlock._

 

_‘Mind if I join you?’_

_Sherlock smiled and set his glass down, he scooted forward in the tub to place a damp hand on John's arm, he stroked it with his pruny fingertips and smiled up at John_

 

_‘How about I finish up here and join you in the living room?'  
_

 

John chuckled and a pleasant sensation pooled in his gut at the contact of Sherlock's wet hand on his arm; it made his pulse jump under his skin as the slightly rough texture of Sherlock's waterlogged skin rubbed over his inner arm and made him shiver slightly.

 

_‘Shall I tend to the drinks?’_

_John asked in a slightly tight voice, Sherlock grinned knowingly and reached for an expensive looking bottle of shampoo, as he leaned forward in the tub John got a glimpse of his shimmering wet abdomen and the dark trail of hair leading south._

 

_‘Yes, thank you, John, I’ll be through in a few minutes.'_

_John bent and kissed the back of Sherlock's wet hand and rose to his feet; he grimaced as his socked foot came into contact with a now cold puddle of water._

 

_‘Eurgh! Try to keep the water inside the bath next time please love.’_

 

He said in an exasperated voice that carried no weight and heard _Sherlock's soft rumbling laugh as he closed the door; his footsteps on the hallway carpet were squishy and unpleasant; he hopped from foot to foot and almost totalled a bookshelf as he peeled off the now soaking wet socks and tossed them into the hamper next to the bathroom, he wondered through to the kitchen and pulled out the necessary ingredients for two strong drinks._

_The expensive Scotch whisky bottle was cold and coated with a thin sheet of ice that began to rapidly melt against his palm; he measured out two generous doses of the whiskey into a metal cocktail shaker and rooted in the fridge for the lemons and jug of lemonade, he was pleasantly surprised to find the inside of the fridge wonderfully free of body parts; no longer did he have to sift through severed heads Petri dishes and boxes of fresh organs to get to his lunch._

_He took out the jug of lemonade and set it down on the kitchen counter, he rolled his eyes as he located the lemons in the salad drawer that now contained only nonthreatening fruits and vegetables; they were on the expensive side, probably Sicilian, unwaxed and a violent shade of yellow._

_Since Rosie had arrived at 221B Sherlock had started to actually go grocery shopping; But the things he bought were decidedly more luxurious than anything John would consider buying, not to say that he didn't appreciate good food, he rubbed his thumbnail over the slightly knobbly skin of the fruit and an intense burst of its bright fragrance filled his nostrils; they smelled wonderful, like sunshine._

_The scent swirled stronger as he drew a knife from the block and sliced into the yellow flesh; he cut four thin wedges; and bent again to retrieve a tray of ice cubes and rapped the tray on the edge of the counter to free them before returning the tray to the freezer, John poured the whisky and fresh lemonade in and swept the ice into the shaker before he securely placed the lid and gave the drink a vigorous shake._

_He set down the shaker and pulled out another glass from the cupboard, he strained the drink into the glasses, then added the lemons wedges before stirring each drink; then he carried them through to the living room and set them on their respective side tables,_ _He flopped down into his seat with a contented sigh and waited for Sherlock to join him.  
_


	20. Unknown Quantities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock Drink together and ponder the atrocities of the hospital scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing about Sherlock getting himself all dressed up for John.

# ♢ _Chapter Twenty: Unknown Quantities_ ♢

 

 

 

_Sherlock submerged himself once more into the rapidly cooling bathwater and rinsed the shampoo and conditioner from his hair; then he gripped the edges of the tub, hauled himself up and stepped into the mild steamy air, at once his skin broke out in goosebumps and made him shiver slightly; he reached for a towel and moaned as the warm, scented cotton enveloped his thin frame, he tied the towel at his hips and padded over to the door to turn on the light, he winced as the bright artificial glare assaulted his eyes._

_He turned and began blowing out the dozen or so church candles and then he padded over to the mirror and wiped away the haze of condensation to inspect his reflection, his skin was tinged a faint pink from the heat of the water but his eyes had faint bluish purple shadows beneath them, his hair was stuck to his cheeks and neck in great coiling tendrils._

_He swept a hand through his wild mane and brushed it back from his face; he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out some pomade and a comb before swinging it shut; he set down the tub of pomade and ran the comb through his hair to tame it slightly; then rubbing some of the wonderful smelling product in his fingers he attempted to comb his unruly hair into submission._

_When he was satisfied with his hair he touched his cheek to find that it was becoming bristly. this would not do, he opened the medicine cabinet once more and drew out a gleaming straight razor and some high-end shaving cream; he set them down and filled the sink with warm water, then he spread the cream over his cheeks and chin; he rinsed his hands and picked up the glinting razor, he flicked it open with practised ease and began to shave._

_He held the razor’s edge to his skin and began methodically stroking it down his pale throat,_ once he was happy he rinsed his face and drained the sink; he plucked a bottle of aftershave from the shelf and patted He _barely felt the familiar sting as he ran his fingers over his now smooth skin, he then addressed his nakedness and dressed in the clothes he’d laid out; his trademark purple shirt, silk boxers and slacks._

_He checked himself over once more in the mirror and inhaled the fading scents of lavender and candle wax before exiting the bathroom, he padded down the hall and found the living room bathed in semi-darkness; lit by some more tall church candles and garlands of hazy white fairy lights that were haphazardly strung above the millions of newspaper clippings on the far wall, the room smelled of wood smoke and roses._

_The same roses that had been bought for Rosie’s homecoming; They were now wilting slightly and beginning to discolour, Sherlock would have to go out in the morning and buy some more, the flat would inevitably end up looking decidedly feminine from now on, his gaze landed on John who was reading a medical journal and sipping from his glass; he looked up at the sound of Sherlock's footsteps and smiled at him softly._

 

_'I’ll be with you in a few minutes he says.’_

 

_Murmured John with a roll of his eyes, Sherlock snorted and playfully batted John's shoulder before taking a seat in front of him; he picked up his drink and took a long sip before setting it down with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and stretched luxuriously; he caught John staring at him through the haze of his lashes and smirked._

 

_'Well, I do like to look my best for you, John.'_

 

_John chuckled darkly at look over Sherlock appraisingly, he was wearing that damn shirt again, the buttons of which were straining to contain his chest, it was tailored so exquisitely, his breath caught as Sherlock shifted slightly and caused his collar to shift exposing his pale throat, John sipped his drink and levelled his gaze on Sherlock._

 

_‘I swear to god you dress like that on purpose.’_

 

_He muttered into his glass, he leaned forward to get a better look at Sherlock's slender neck; Sherlock smirked and leaned forward into John's personal space, he cocked his head to one side and revealed more of his glorious skin; John swallowed convulsively and licked his dry lips._

_‘Like what John?’_

_Asked Sherlock in a rumbling voice; John found himself blushing and he ran a hand through his hair, feeling slightly embarrassed._

 

_'You know......All....Perfect...You dress in those sinfully tight clothes and swan about like you own the bloody place...You have no idea how fucking good you look do you?’_ _You must know what you do to me, Sherlock...And right now....I’m finding it difficult to look anywhere else.’_

 

J _ohn's voice had taken on a husky tone as he let his gaze roam over the well-tailored clothes that defined Sherlock's body in all the right places, he watched Sherlock's angular face lit by the warm glow of the candles and felt a hot rush of tension begin to simmer in his gut, Sherlock cast his eyes down to his knees and flushed a pale pink at John's compliments; he felt a warm feeling blooming inside of him, he closed the gap between them, cupped John's cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips._

_John's momentary grunt of surprise subsided into a small groan and he blindly set his glass down and wound an arm around Sherlock's neck, they stayed like this for several moments; John could taste the whisky on Sherlock's breath and it excited him immensely, he felt Sherlock's other hand on his thigh and let out a muffled moan when Sherlock gently squeezed, Sherlock drew back with a shrewd grin and picked up his glass._

 

_‘You shouldn’t reveal your weaknesses so easily John, you might just find me using them to my advantage.’_

 

_John huffed out a laugh and sat back in his chair; he reached for his own drink and drained it._

_  
_

_‘Mmh, I encourage you to do so.’_

 

_He said with a smirk, he watched as something dark flickered Sherlock's eyes for a second and then vanished, It was a look that made his stomach flip and his heart beat faster, Sherlock drained his own glass and look great care to lick the taste from his lips much slower than was necessary; John growled quietly and stood up._

 

_‘I’ll get us another drink then yeah?’_

 

_Sherlock nodded and handed him his glass; he made sure to graze his fingers against John's as he took the glass from him, a jolt of crackling electricity shot through his fingertips as he did so and he knew that John has felt it too by the way his breath quickened and his hands ever so slightly trembled, John turned and walked to the kitchen and Sherlock admired the view until he was out of sight and the air was suddenly filled with clinking and the muted thud of the fridge door._

_Sherlock unbuttoned his shirt slightly and smoothed a hand over his hair quickly to check it hadn’t turned into a curly mess, thankfully it had not so he sat back and crossed his legs patiently, John returned with two more drinks and set them down on the tables with a dull ‘thunk’_

 

_‘Thank you, bar wench.’_

 

_Rumbled Sherlock in an amused voice._

 

_‘Bar Wench?’_

 

_Asked John in a mock outraged tone; he eyed Sherlock with a grin and sat down in his chair again._

  _  
_

 

_‘You cheeky bastard.’_

 

_He chuckled sipping his drink with a satisfied sigh._

  

_'Oh do be quiet John.'_

  

_John giggled and stuck his tongue out._

 

_'_ _You do know that you look like a moody giraffe in a suit.'_

 

_He laughed again at the look on Sherlock's face_

 

_'Actually...You look like Eyore...If Eyore was a psychopath.'_

 

_'High functioning sociopath.'_

 

_Drawled Sherlock in a perfect impression of the manic-depressive donkey, John dissolved into giggle fits again and eyed Sherlock with intense affection, they lapsed into companionable silence for a few minutes and just sipped their drinks in quiet contemplation._

 

 

'So.... _How do you think Greg is getting on at Mycroft's then?’_

 

_Asked John with a childish grin,_ Sherlock shuddered slightly and fixed John with a look of displeasure.

  

_‘Oh, I’m sure Mycroft is enjoying himself immensely, although I can't say that his bedside manner is anything to shout about, He tries so hard to be discreet about his affections but alas....He turns to Jelly at the mere sight of Greg Lestrade.’_

 

_Sherlock sipped his drink and grimaced at John who just grinned back._

 

_'I'm quite certain that he's more than happy to nurse Lestrade back to health.'_

_Sherlock shuddered again at the thought and took another, much larger sip._

 

_‘It’s positively sickening.’_

 

_John smiled and sipped his drink thoughtfully, he tilted the glass in his fingers and fixed Sherlock with a lightly amused yet exasperated look, It seemed the sibling rivalry was alive and well._

 

_‘Well, I think it’s nice, God knows Greg’s had it rough even before this all happened...He’s a good bloke and he deserves a bit of happiness, We all do.’_

 

_He saw Sherlock's face shift into one of begrudging agreement and felt encouraged._

  

_‘And you know Sherlock; Greg could be really good for Mycroft, I mean, yeah, they’re...Different...To put it mildly.....But your brother needs to learn how to unwind And I think if anyone is up for the job its Greg.’_

 

_Sherlock hummed and sipped his drink, he supposed this was true; his brother had a proverbial stick up his arse that only the bravest of men could possibly hope to dislodge...He grimaced at that last thought and twitched his head to the side in an attempt to dislodge the horrible imagery._

_‘Look, if we’re going to talk about Mycroft's 'Feelings.’_

 

_He made quotation marks in the air around the word._

  _  
_

_‘Then I’m going to need another cigarette.’_

 

_To Sherlock's surprise, John snorted and shot him a fond if not a tad exasperated smile_

  

_‘Oh, go on then, but don’t have too many, I don’t want you dropping dead from lung cancer.’_

 

_Sherlock chuckled and rose from his seat, he swayed his hips as he walked to the bathroom to retrieve his cigarette and lighter and knew that John was no doubt staring at his retreating form, he pulled on his coat and hurried downstairs to the front door, he opened it and stepped out into the cool night air, h_ _e lit up a cigarette and inhaled a deep lungful of hot smoke, he let it out in a lazy exhale and watched it drift and swirl in the fierce breeze, the streetlights cast everything below in a dim orange glow._

_He cast his eyes to the dark sky and felt droplets of rain on to his face,_ _the muted rush of late evening traffic served as tonight’s urban soundtrack and somewhere down the road he could hear the faint sounds of music and the indistinct chatter of night goers, he took another deep drag and gripped the cold metal railing in his free hand, it was damp against his palm and made his hand slip slightly; he let out a gust of smoke and watched again as the wind carried it off in a whirling mist into the night._

_He wondered with dark foreboding if the anonymous killer of the six mutilated corpses was looking to the sky at this very same moment, what he or she was thinking about, maybe they were going about their awful business and the new day would bring another gruesome discovery...This was a grim and unsettling thought that set his teeth on edge, he stubbed out his finished cigarette and flicked it over the railing._

_He turned and walked back into the warm air of the flat and padded back to his seat_

 

_‘You’re worrying about the murderer aren’t you?’_

 

_Asked John in a low voice, he was sitting with his legs crossed and turning his empty glass in his fingers; something must have shown in Sherlock's face and given him away._

 

_‘What if they're’ doing...What they did before...What if they’re doing something much worse.....I want to find them and put a stop to all of this.’_

 

_John leaned forward and rested his hand on Sherlock’s knee._

 

_‘The yard is looking into it Sherlock, you need time to recuperate and Greg and Mycroft are more than likely distracted tonight.’_

 

Sherlock grimaced again and looked away., _John raised his hand to Sherlock's cheek and watched his eyes flutter closed at his touch._

 

 

_‘Let me help you relax Sherlock.’_

_  
_

_Sherlock opened his eyes slowly and turned his head to kiss John's palm, John's breathing stuttered at the feeling of his hot mouth on his skin and swallowed with a small moan._

_‘And how exactly do you intend to do that?’_

 

_Asked Sherlock; his voice was muffled against John's palm and his both breath ghosted lazily over his skin; John let out a soft growl and cupped Sherlock’s chin, he leaned forward and crushed their lips hungrily together, Sherlock moaned and tangled a hand in John's silvery hair; he felt hot trickles of pleasure flowing through his whole body; his stomach was doing backflips and his hands trembled slightly as John sucked his bottom lip._

 

_‘You’re the genius love, search that massive brain of yours and make an attempt at an answer.’_

 

_Sherlock raised his eyebrows and eyed John with a coy smile._  

 

_‘Does it involve you?’_

 

_'Hmm, It might do, t might also involve a certain amount of physical contact...Do you follow?’_

 

_‘What kind of physical contact?’_

_Asked Sherlock in a hoarse whisper._

  

_‘Hmmm......’_

 

_Said John in a sly voice, he trailed a hand lazily up Sherlock's inner thigh and grazed his fingertips over his silk covered crotch;_ _Sherlock gasped and unconsciously bucked his hip up into the contact._

 

_‘The kind I know you’ll very much enjoy.’_

 

_John trailed his fingers up to the button on Sherlock’s slacks and popped it open, he slowly edged down the zip and tugged the material down over Sherlock's thighs, h_ _is breath caught as he saw Sherlock's hard cock outlined in the purple boxers that exactly matched his shirt; he trailed his fingers lightly over Sherlock's silk covered cock and revelled in his tight moan._

 

_‘Would you Mind...Demonstrating?’_

 

_Asked Sherlock in a thick voice, he was all of a sudden very, very hard._

 

'Not at all.'

 

Said John darkly, t _he first touch of John's hand on his thigh had made his cock twitch with excitement, he whimpered when John dragged his thumb over his silk shrowded cock and dipped his head forward to kiss John again; The kiss was slow and breathy as John continued to run his hands over Sherlock's hips and crotch; Sherlock could feel him smirking into the kiss and moaned when he felt John's tongue roll over his bottom lip before his gently sunk his teeth into it._

_John pushed Sherlock back in his chair and smiled a little evilly at him; Sherlock gripped the edges of it and panted as John turned his attention to his shirt; one by one John flicked open the buttons until the shirt fell open to reveal the glorious pale skin of Sherlock's heaving chest; Sherlock moaned loudly as John began to press soft kissed into his neck and collarbones, he bucked his hips again as John's hand continued to gently palm him through his boxers, he was at once far too hot under the layers of fabric and shrugged out of his shirt; he tossed it on the floor and wound a hand in John's hair to anchor himself to him._

_John slowly kissed down Sherlock's chest and abdomen making him moan and cant his hips forward; John chuckled low in his throat and teased his hands at the waistband of his boxers, Sherlock gasped as he tugged them down, he lifted his hips and shuddered as the warm air hit his straining cock; it sprang from the silk confinement and landed heavy against his abdomen, there was already clear liquid beading at the swollen head and Sherlock bit his lip and groaned as John swept his thumb over it to spread the slick fluid around._

 

_'Christ John...Touch me.'_

 

_Panted Sherlock through clenched teeth, John sank to his knees in front of Sherlock and leaned forward to press hot kisses into his inner thigh, Sherlock inhaled sharply and gripped the chair more firmly in his clenched hands, his skin felt like it was on fire under John's blazing mouth and he whimpered as John blew a hot breath over his cock, John chuckled and flicked his eyes up to his Sherlock's face; he was looking rather debauched and a thin sheen of perspiration shimmered on his brow; his eyes were half-lidded and his bottom lip was caught in his teeth._

_He looked like a vision of perfection; his face and neck were flushed and his chest rose and fell rapidly as John exhaled again against his swollen cock._

 

_‘I thought you might say that.'_  

 

_Purred John with a dark chuckle._

 

_'I’m going to make you forget about everything else in the world, Don’t think tonight Sherlock....Just feel.’_

 


	21. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shameless smut, along with a twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there everyone; let me just apologize for my lengthy absence.  
> I've had chronic writer's block.....Writing is fucking hard.
> 
>  
> 
> But I dirges. 
> 
> This chapter was pretty tough to write as I'm eager to move the storyline along and away from the smut for a few chapters.  
> Oh and don't think I've forgotten about more Greg and Mycroft!
> 
> Oh goodness no.
> 
> I'm trying to alternate the POV a bit throughout the story and I'm trying to stay focused on the main plot right now but I promise that a steamy Mystrade chapter is coming later on in the story.
> 
> It might take a while to get to it but all good things come to those who wait.
> 
>  
> 
>  

 

# ♢Chapter Twenty One: Worship♢

 

_‘Your_ _Bedroom....._ _Now.’_

 

_Was all John could manage to say._

 

_It was rather uncomfortable running upstairs with a raging erection but Sherlock closed the distance well before John did; he flopped down onto the bed almost bonelessly and squeezed his cock with a hiss, John rounded the door frame and pushed the door closed with his foot; his breath caught when he saw Sherlock stretched out on the bed with his cock in his hand; there was a look of intense concentration on his face and his eyes were tightly closed, his eyes flickered open when he felt the bed dip; he stared up at John who although looked ravishing was wearing far too many layers of clothing._

 

_‘You’re thoroughly overdressed.’_

 

_Sherlock drawled with a decadent grin._

 

_'_ _Why don’t you undress me then?’_

 

_John shot back with an identical hungry look, Sherlock growled low in his throat and set about forcibly removing John's shirt sending buttons flying for the second time this week, he was sharply yanked forward and Sherlock began pressing hot kisses into his exposed neck, John gasped and his back arched as Sherlock's tongue flickered out to trail down his collarbones and lingered to lave at one of his nipples._

_The act felt strange but intensely thrilling to him and he closed his eyes as Sherlock's hands worked on his belt and his fly, John pulled back panting and stood up on shaking legs, he dropped his jeans and wasted no time in shimmying out of his boxers before climbing back onto the bed, Sherlock's pupils were blown wide and the way he was looking at John made him feel like prey; it was a hungry look of a man who had seen far too much and needed a release._

_John crawled up the bed like a predator seeking its prey, he brushed his fingertips feather-light over Sherlock’s inner thighs and smirked as Sherlock’s breath hitched, he leaned down and blew a hot breath out onto Sherlock’s straining cock and darted his tongue out to lick away the clear fluid beading at the tip, Sherlock's head tipped back with a harsh groan as John covered the head of his cock with his hot wet mouth._

_He hissed as he sunk down a few inches and pulled up again; John smirked up at him and then went back to devouring him, one of Sherlock's hands reached out and his long fingers laced tightly into John's soft hair with a deep groan as John swallowed around him and moaned._

_'FFuck...You’re too good at that John...’_

 

_He breathed through his clenched teeth; his head hit the pillow again and his free hand clenched tightly in the expensive linen, h_ _is heart rate was skyrocketing and every inch of his skin was on fire, John hummed around him and the vibrations made his hips twitch and tremble as he fought the urge to thrust himself deeper into the exquisite head of John's mouth._

_John took his cock in almost halfway and flicked his dark eyes up to Sherlock, seeing John staring up at him with his mouth stretched wide with his cock just about undid him; his lips were deep red and his eyes were like two molten sapphires in the dim light; John watched as Sherlock's eyes fluttered and rolled back, he watched his face twist into an expression that could be mistaken for pain and his own cock pulsed as Sherlock's lip curled back in a snarl as he finally took his cock down all the way until his nose bumped against the coarse dark hair of Sherlock's groin._

_Sherlock's fingers gripped his hair almost painfully and let out a low filthy moan that tapered off into a snarl; he could no longer help himself and pressed his cock all the way into John's hot throat, John's jaw flexed slightly and his eyes watered a little but he managed to keep his gag reflex in check perfectly; rhythmically swallowing every few seconds and keeping his streaming eyes fixed on Sherlock's face._

_He pulled up for air gasping and grinned at Sherlock; he gripped his slick cock and stroked it slowly, Sherlock moaned and panted against the back of the chair, his whole body was trembling now and he needed to feel John's mouth on him again; John seemed to read his mind and he swooped back down and flicked his tongue over the head of Sherlock's cock before swallowing it down again; he relished in Sherlock's pornographic growl and hummed around him again._

_Sherlock tried to speak, to praise John for his amazingly hot, tight mouth; but he couldn’t find any air for words and only a string of disjointed nonsense issued from his parted lips as John devoured him whole; he tried to watch the glorious performance but found his eyes were becoming well acquainted with the back of his skull as John applied perfect pressure and bobbed almost effortlessly below him, he caught his bottom lip in his teeth and ground out a tight moan as John pulled off again and stared up at him._

_John drew back panting slightly and smirked up at Sherlock; he looked so tense and flustered, his skin was flushed and his breaths came in short gasps as he pinned John with his wide shimmering eyes, john continued to crawl up Sherlock until he was straddling Sherlock, and then he began rocking almost hypnotically back and forth against his flushed, straining cock, Sherlock's hands flew to John's waist and a sharp gasp tore from his lips._

_John stretched over to the side table and grabbed the clear bottle of lube that they really should conceal for the sake of Mrs Hudson should she come looking for Sherlock, Sherlock pulled him down by one long arm and kissed him deeply, his lips were soft and feather light and made John whimper and arch his back; Sherlock’s hips canted up impatiently and John got back to the task at hand._

_He flicked open the little bottle and poured a generous amount of the slippery liquid into his palm; he threw the bottle aside and smoothed his hand over Sherlock’s twitching cock, John relished the way Sherlock's body went rigid and the gorgeous moans pierced the air around them; he gently rocked against Sherlock again, he could feel Sherlock's hands trembling against his waist, his eyes were closed but fluttered ever so slightly, his mouth was set in concentration and his breathing was coming in short, gusting pants._

_John grasped the base of Sherlock's cock and positioned it at his entrance; Sherlock gasped and bit his lip; John took a deep breath and made himself bare down against the head of Sherlock's cock; he closed his eyes against the slight burn and sunk down onto it about an inch, Sherlock inhaled sharply and then moaned as he felt the slick heat of John's ass against the head of his cock; he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and his nostrils flared._

_John moaned and slid down a little further; he was adjusting quickly to Sherlock’s thick cock but he wanted to wear out his self-control and finally see the flash of madness streak through his eyes as he took John with all the frenzied passion he possessed, he continued his slow descent and rocked his hips teasingly Sherlock let out a low growl, his eyes opened wide and John finally saw the tinge of madness flaring in the deep silvery blue depths._

_John's breath stopped in his throat as he saw the raw, primal lust in his eyes and wondered for a moment how he could have ever doubted that Sherlock wanted him just as badly as John wanted Sherlock, he was absolutely hypnotised and tumbled into the swirling colours._

_He lapsed out of his thoughts when he felt Sherlock's hips rock upwards and hit against his prostate perfectly he whimpered and ground his hips down to further heighten the blissful feeling, Sherlock growled and snapped his hips forward harshly; he raked his manicured fingernails down the skin of John's back and arched his whole body forward, he rolled his hips harshly and without mercy; there were black spots skittering across his vision as he clung to John and gasped for breath._

_John suddenly lifted himself off of Sherlock's cock and smirked at his whimper of protest; until he realised what John was doing, he re-positioned himself on his hands and knees and Sherlock practically pounced on him like a feral cat, John moaned as Sherlock eagerly thrust back into him and bit down hard on his good shoulder, Sherlock’s arms coiled around his waist in a firm, comforting grip, Sherlock hissed as John rocked his hips impatiently._

' _You feel so good John...You have no idea.....’_

_He purred into the delicate skin of John's back; he pressed hot kisses into the tanned flesh and chuckled when John gasped and arched back into the touch._

 

_‘God...Don’t you dare stop......'_

 

_John tried his best to put on his captain voice but he just couldn’t focus, Sherlock was thrusting shallowly with his bottom lip caught in his teeth; he suddenly snapped his hips forward with a groan, his eyes closed and he gave over to the sensations, John's breathing stopped for a second as Sherlock picked up a teasing rhythm that made him whimper and clutch at the expensive sheets for support, Sherlock angled his hips and slammed against his prostate; John has to bite the edge of a pillow to muffle his salacious moan._

_Sherlock chuckled and snapped his hips forwards again so he could listen to John coming undone beneath him; he was not disappointed by the near constant stream of muffled moans and cries, John's whole body was quivering beneath him, and his breathing was sharp and ragged against the pillow; Sherlock growled into John's neck and bit down softly, his tongue flickered out and lapped at the golden skin, he smirked as John's back arched and had to gasp in a deep breath; he held it as he felt the all too familiar pooling sensation in his gut begin to swirl._

 

 

_‘John....I can’t hold on much longer....'_

 

_He broke off with a groan as John clenched around him suddenly and nearly made him come there and then; he hissed out a breath and peppered John's back with more frantic kisses._

 

_‘Let go Sherlock........Just.....’_

 

_John's voice choked off as Sherlock snapped his hips forward with renewed vigour; if it weren’t for Sherlock’s firm grip on his waist then he would be boneless against the mattress._

_‘Let go.....’_

 

_Sherlock panted harshly and quickened his pace, chasing his impending orgasm and succumbing to the tidal wave of pleasure coursing through his body; he felt all of his muscles beginning to tighten and a molten hot feeling surged through him as he came with a hoarse shout against John's shoulder, John moaned as he felt Sherlock come; felt him shudder and groan against him and his hot breath on his damp skin, the feeling became too much to bear and John felt something snap inside him, he buried his face in the pillows and came with a muffled roar._

_For a few moments neither of them could move, then Sherlock pulled back with trembling arms and fell limply onto the bed beside John who was still face down and panting, he batted on the nightstand for some wet wipes and shakily cleaned himself up; he tossed away the soiled wipes and passed a couple to John who still hadn’t moved, he lay back and closed his eyes._

_‘God above....That was amazing.’_

_Huffed John against the pillow, his voice was relaxed and it sounded like he was smiling; Sherlock stretched with a pleased groan as his joints clicked; he heard John's muffled sound of disapproval but ignored it with a small smile._

_‘Mmh...Yes, it was, I’d rather say we’ve outdone ourselves this time.’_

 

_Sherlock’s voice was low and unctuous, it flowed from his mouth like warm honey, John hastily cleaned himself and peered over at Sherlock with a dazed smile._

_‘I fucking love you, Sherlock.’_

 

_John mumbled into the silence,_ Sherlock smiled a radiant smile that made his eyes sparkle; in that moment he looked so gentle and peaceful.

 

_‘And I love you, John.’_

_As they lay sated and panting, drifting on the edge of sleep....Sherlock’s phone rang, Sherlock and John both jumped at the sound and then Sherlock fumbled blindly on the side table for his phone; he finally located it and stared at the number in confusion_

 

_‘Put it on loud speaker.’_

 

_Mumbled John, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Sherlock unlocked his phone and took the call, put it on loudspeaker and tried to think of who it could be; but, He supposed that it couldn't be anyone else._

 

_‘Hello?’_

 

_At first, there was no reply, no sound; but gradually the sounds of static filtered through the silence._

_‘Who’s calling?’_

 

_Cut in John before Sherlock could speak again and then a soft, rumbling voice broke the silence,_ _t_ he man was definitely Finish, he spoke English very well but there were certain words where his mother tongue bled through. _  
_

 

_'I assume that I am speaking to the consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, As to who I am...Well.....That's not important,_ I see that you and your little friends found one of my exhibits. I particularly enjoyed creating that one.' 

 

_‘Aren't they marvellous?'_

 

_'I'm going to give you two pieces of advice Mr Holmes, free of charge, the only two pieces of advice that you’ll ever need if you wish to survive.’_

_‘Don’t try to find me...And don’t try to stop me.’_

 

'That's it, Nothing more, nothing less.'

 

'However, should _you choose to ignore my sound well-reasoned advice then I am not to blame for my actions.’_

'If you come looking for me, I will find you first....You'd make a fine addition to my collection... _You think you’ve seen horrors?'_

 

_'You haven’t seen anything.’_

 

'Stay away Mr Holmes.

 

 

 

The line went dead, leaving a dreadful silence in its wake _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


	22. Victor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has a very vivid flashback and then more smut happens.

 

 

 

# ♢ _Chapter 22: Victor._ ♢

_Sherlock and John stared at each other with identical expressions of dread, they were not dealing with some amateur psychopath, this man was very careful and very dangerous, he didn’t seek people out, he was like a trapdoor spider; lurking in wait until some unfortunate soul stumbled across his path, he could probably hide in plain sight and go unnoticed for years, these were not hollow threats, however...No...They were very real._

_They both knew that it was wise to take heed of the man’s warning, but could they really shrug this off and go back to their lives? Finally, Sherlock broke the thick silence._

_‘We need to leave London immediately.’_

 

_John was startled and still processing the harrowing phone call._

_‘We...What?’_

_  
_

_Sherlock sighed and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair._

 

_‘There’s only one place we can go where I know we'll be safe.’_

_  
_

_‘Where?’_

  

_'My parent’s summer house, in the Scottish Highlands,_ Mycroft decided to add an underground Nuclear shelter with panic rooms and all sorts of other ludicrous defensive measures.......'

 

_Sherlock paused to frown slightly before he went on._

 

_'My parents will, of course, be there too; Mycroft and I went there almost every year when we were young......I used to love going down to the beach to just watch the sunrise........_

 

_Sherlock trailed off as fragments of memory stirred in his mind._

 

 

_He and Mycroft were on the beach near the house quite early one morning and Mycroft was showing him how to make elaborate sandcastles.....T_ he sky had been a pale lilac with vivid streaks of pink and gold scattered across it, it was mild but not cold and the beach had been completely deserted, _Sherlock was digging a moat and cried with delight as the white foamy tide rushed in and filled the hole he'd dug around the Large three-turreted sandcastle._

_He remembered the feeling of the cool seawater spreading over his bare feet and the soft golden sand squidging between his toes, he remembered combing the shoreline for things to decorate his castles as Mycroft looked on with fond patience before returning to his book, Sherlock had taken great pleasure in adorning his creations with seashells, slippery green seaweed and pieces of driftwood bleached white by the sunshine and salt...Mycroft's castles were always so much better than his own but Mycroft would insist that they were._

 

'Good enough for any King.'

  

_And then another memory flooded his mind, it was odd that a memory long buried and almost forgotten could be so vivid and he remembered it all with perfect clarity...Victor had come to stay.......He and Victor were playing pirates on that same beach.........It had been a very warm day and the sea had been as blue as the skies above; the sun cast shimmering light onto the gently lapping waves as they dashed up and down the beach with their little wooden swords._

_The wind had picked up suddenly and Victor's pirate hat had been blown off into a nearby field that looked out onto the beach, above it was the rugged cliffs covered with purple heather and inlets filled with the nests of seabirds and the winding sandy track that lead back up to his large house; the two of them had laughed as they raced after the hat, they climbed the metal gate and scrambled over it down into the warm green grass, they searched around for a few minutes before Sherlock found Victor's hat partly hidden in the long grass._

 

_Victor cried out victoriously as Sherlock handed him his 'Special' hat and skipped off along a row of gleaming yellow wheat, singing to himself, Sherlock has paused to admire the view of the beach beyond the metal fence, how the ebbing waves and sprawling sandy coastline looked so pretty and how he wanted to stay here forever...It was such a peaceful place._

_He turned his back on the pleasant view in alarm as he heard Victor shouting his name; he hurriedly followed Victor's voice until he found him kneeling down in a patch of grass at the edge of the plot, Victor had stumbled across an injured Raven, Sherlock knelt down next to Victor and made a small sympathetic noise as he saw that the poor thing's wing was clearly broken and how weak and dejected the Bird was looking._

_Victor had untied the jumper from around his waist and slowly crept forward to wrap the injured bird in it, muttering soft words as it squawked and attempted to peck him with its sharp black beak, they had hurried back up to the house and rushed the Raven to his father;_ _His father was much more sympathetic and kind in these sorts of matters than his mother or his older brother._

_His father's kind eyes had twinkled at the sight of the boy's stricken faces and he graciously had agreed to assist in the recuperation of the bird, who as it turns out was a female, Sherlock thought for a moment and then announced that the Raven's name should be 'Lenore' after a character in his favourite 'Edgar Allan Poe' poem._

H _is father smiled affectionately at his Clever little son and said that indeed, 'Lenore' was a fitting name for the bird, his father and Victor had splinted Lenore's broken wing while Sherlock dashed off to the garden to dig up worms for her eat; each day she grew stronger and tamer until she would eat out of their hands but was still a little wary of being indoors._

_They grew very fond of her, marvelled in her beautiful dark feathers with their bejewelled sheen, how her sharp beak glinted and the way her intelligent eyes seemed to pierce through your soul...And then one day Sherlock has gone to feed his beloved new friend and she had simply flown away out the open window, leaving only a few inky black feathers on the windowsill._

 

 Sherlock had wept bitterly that day, his father had hugged him close and gently explained to him that Lenore was not a pet and she had only been with them until she was well enough to return home and that maybe she had a family of her own and missed them, Sherlock had agreed rather tearfully that his father was right but all the same, he was going to miss Lenore very much.

 

 

 

_Sherlock hadn't realised that John had been trying to get his attention with increasing concern in his voice until his warm, calloused hand on his shoulder make him jump as he came back to reality again._

 

_'Are you alright love?'_

 

_Asked John in a soft, worried voice, Sherlock blinked and looked down at John; his silver hair was sticking up all over the place and his steely blue eyes were fixed on him, In the same moment Sherlock leaned down to kiss John tenderly when he pulled back John was grinning his favourite cheeky grin._

 

_'I'll take that as a yes then?'_

 

_Sherlock rolled his eyes and started to speak again._

  

' _As I was saying...Mycroft has the house monitored 24/7.’_

 

Sherlock eyed John's rapt expression and smirked a little. 

  

' _I almost persuaded him to put blast shields on 221B at one point.’_

John's eyebrows disappeared into his fluffy hair and he cocked his head to one side. 

_‘Sorry......Blast shields.....Like zombie apocalypse stuff?’_

_  
_

Sherlock snorted and leaned over to smooth down John's wild hair. 

_‘Aparently, he's considering installing them on his own house after we broke in.'  
_

John huffed out a laugh and sat up straighter to stare at Sherlock in utter disbelief.

 

_'Your brother is suddenly a lot cooler.’_

 

_'Don't let him hear you say that, I think he might choke to death on his own smugness.'_

 

Muttered Sherlock darkly, _John's face paled slightly in the dim light and for another moment he felt panic._

_‘What about Rosie?’_

 

_Sherlock eyed him with tender exasperation._

 

_‘Well, obviously we’ll be taking her with us.’_

_  
_

_Sherlock’s face suddenly fell and he rolled his eyes like a sullen child._

_  
_

_‘Oh no....My parents are going to be revolting......'_

_‘What do you mean?’_

_Asked John, a little puzzled, Sherlock gave John another exasperated look and sighed._

_  
_

_‘My parents absolutely love children and my mother especially loves babies.’_

 

_‘And who couldn’t love Rosie.’_

 

_Said John softly, he couldn’t help but smile as he thought of her safely tucked up in her makeshift nursery in the living room, how could he smile at a time like this?_

_‘Precisely.’_

 

_Said Sherlock who was also smiling softly in spite of the shitstorm they had walked into only days earlier._

 

_‘Well then.’_

 

_Said John, fixing Sherlock with a questioning look._

_‘When do we leave?’_

_‘I need to speak to Mycroft, he’ll be able to arrange most of it for us, seeing as he's the self-proclaimed all Seeing Eye it shouldn’t be too difficult for him.’_

 

_John snorted and swung his legs over the edge of the bed; he rose and stretched, he was intensely aware of Sherlock’s gaze on his naked body even though he was facing away now._

  _  
_

_‘I’ll go get dressed then, this should be.......Interesting.’_

_  
_

_John tiptoed up to his bedroom and quietly found suitable clothing, a dark button-up shirt, fresh silk boxers, socks, and jeans, he hurried back down to Sherlock’s room as quietly as he could and found Sherlock still sitting on the edge of the mattress looking lost in thought, he looked up when the door opened and came back to himself._

_‘Oh yes, please, lounge around like Lord of the bloody manor, it’s not like we're fleeing from the threat of a depraved sicko or anything .’_

 

_Said John with a look of affectionate exasperation, Sherlock blinked and twitched his head to one side quickly as if to chase away a thought, t_ _hen he gave John a genuinely withering look._

'I _liked you better naked.’_

_John snorted and leaned against the door frame._

 

_‘Yeah, well, I liked my life a lot better before a psychotic surgeon came into it but what can you do eh?’_

_Sherlock chuckled softly and pulled himself up and out of the warm bed; he shivered; the air was much cooler now and he hurriedly located a fresh set of clothes, once he was fully dressed he picked up his packet of cigarettes and his phone._

 

_‘I need another cigarette if I’m going to grovel to Mycroft.’_

_  
_

_He muttered darkly, John rolled his eyes and made a 'go on then' gesture,  Sherlock grinned despite himself and swept past John in a flutter of expensive silk._

_‘Be nice, He might install blast shields on 221B.’_

Sherlock paused at the door. 

 

_'Well, now that I think about it...I don't think Mrs Hudson would be very pleased.'_

_  
_

_With that he was gone, he heard John giggling madly as he closed the door and then he was moving silently through the dark living room, he passed Rosie's crib out of habit to check on her, a stream of silver light was cast down onto the cot by the large moon outside the window and there were only the muffled sounds of solitary cabs moving along the street outside mixed with the soft snores from the sleeping child._

_The tiny creature was lying on her back with her mouth slightly ajar; her expression was soft and untroubled and Sherlock felt a surge of fierce love for the little girl; he paused to further tuck the blanket around her, retrieved his Bellstaff and tiptoed out onto the stairs and out into the cold air again.  
_

_He pulled on his coat and felt instantly more secure in his own identity; it was absurd that a piece of clothing could bring his such enormous comfort, he buttoned it with practised ease, lit up a cigarette and took a long drag on it, the hot smoke burned pleasantly in his lungs and he closed his eyes for a minute, just smoking._

_Inhale....Exhale._

 

_He opened his eyes again and pulled out his phone; he unlocked it and found Mycroft’s number, he paused for a moment and sighed, he stubbed out his cigarette and immediately_ _lit up another with his free hand, he steeled himself and summoned all of his strength and his patience and pressed the call button, the phone rang....and rang, finally on the eighth ring Mycroft answered._

 

_‘I do hope this is Very, Very, urgent Sherlock’_

 

_Came Mycroft's slightly flustered voice, choosing to ignore the temptation to mock his brother, who was obviously indisposed, Sherlock decided to focus on the current problem._

 

_‘Mycroft listen to me.'_

 

Said Sherlock in a grave but even tone.

 

_'I received a phone call from our dear friend the Surgeon,_ I don't know how he got my number and I don't care but you have to listen to me very. very carefully, can you do that?'

 

There was a long-suffering sigh.

 

'Yes Sherlock, I believe that I am capable of following basic instructions.'

 

Said Mycroft in a dry tone of voice, Sherlock rolled his eyes and ignored his brother's sarcasm.

 

_'I think we’re dealing with something much bigger than we first thought and I think this situation has to be dealt with very carefully.’_

 

_There was a long pause._

_  
_

_‘Sherlock, you aren’t seriously  thinking about going to go after this lunatic are you?’_

_Sherlock sighed and took a quick drag of his cigarette._

_‘I’m not stupid enough to go after him without a plan...I need a favour Mycroft.’_

 

_‘Another one?’_

 

_Sherlock sighed and took a long drag, he watched it swirl in the light wind as he exhaled and tried to be nice._

_  
_

_‘This isn’t just about me Mycroft, It’s about John and Rosie too...’_

_‘How very sentimental of you brother dear.’_

 

S _herlock really had to fight to keep from insulting Mycroft this time.  
_

 

_‘Mycroft I have to_ _keep them safe.’_

 

_Snapped Sherlock, he closed his eyes and took a calming breath._

_  
_

_‘John and Rosie mean everything to me...You of all people know that.’_

 

_There was a slight pause before Mycroft answered._

_‘Of course, I understand......_ _What do you need Sherlock?'_

 

_‘I need to get John and Rosie out of Baker Street and I believe our dear parents are very eager to see her.’_

_Mycroft was silent for a few moments before he spoke in an incredulous voice_

_‘You’re not seriously suggesting what I think you're suggesting.’_

_Sherlock rolled his eyes again, took one last drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out._

  _  
_

_‘Oh but I am Mycroft....And I’m being deadly serious.’_

_  
_

_Mycroft groaned._

 

_'And...'_

 

_Sherlock began in a smug and teasing voice._

 

_'I do recall you saying that if I needed anything I need only to ask....'_

 

_He actually felt Mycroft's searing glare though the phone and grinned triumphantly._.. _He had won._

_Mycroft let out another over dramatic sigh and bit back his petulant retort._

_'I will do this for you Sherlock because despite what you may think....I really do care for you.....And for your family.'_

 

_Sherlock felt a warm glow in his chest when Mycroft said 'Your family' but of course, his stupid big brother had to go and spoil the moment._

 

_‘I will help you, Sherlock.......But you owe me.’_

 

_Sherlock scowled at the dark night sky overhead, the moon and stars were indifferent to his plight._

 

_‘And what exactly do you want in return?’_

 

_Mycroft chuckled softly._

 

_‘Ah, that information is, as the popular saying goes...For me to know and you to find out.’_

 

_Sherlock’s mouth turned down in a petulant scowl and for a split second he wanted to smash the phone in a childish rage; he got a hold of himself and thought carefully about his next words._

 

_‘How quickly can you arrange all this?’_

 

_Mycroft hummed thoughtfully._

 

_'I shall, of course, inform our parents of your eagerness to visit them. and...’_

 

_‘Don’t think you’re getting out of this Mycroft, you’re coming with us.’_

 

_Mycroft spluttered indignantly._

 

_‘Have you any idea how busy I am Sherlock? I can’t just go running off to visit family members, the amount of paperwork....You can’t imagine....’_

 

Sherlock groaned, interrupting Mycroft's tangent of self-pity.

 

_‘Oh for goodness sake Mycroft, make use of all that holiday leave you’ve accumulated over the years! I_ 'm sure your team of soulless drones can handle this mess for at least a few days without you holding their hands.'

 

Mycroft let out a deep sigh.

 

_‘Alright, alright! I will accompany you, but I’m bringing my laptop, I refuse to be out of the loop and I will leave at once if anything else happens.’_

 

_‘Good god, you’re worse than me.’_

 

_Sherlock thought he heard a faint snort but couldn’t be sure.  
_

 

_‘I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll go from there....Some of us do actually sleep you know...’_

 

_'You sleep....In a bed? I  always imagined you slept in a coffin or something.'  
_

 

_Interrupted Sherlock in a mock surprised tone._

  

_'Bugger off Sherlock.'_

 

_Said Mycroft in a tired voice, Sherlock was about to end the call but something stopped him, he gathered his thoughts and spoke._

_‘Mycroft?’_

 

_There was another long suffering sigh._

 

_‘Yes, Sherlock?’_

 

_‘Thank you.’_

 

There was a pause.

 

'You're welcome, brother dear.'

  

_Sherlock ended the call and scrubbed a hand over his face, how on earth was he going to explain his relationship with John to his parents? He shivered in the cold air and glanced up at the stars, he sighed and lit up his last cigarette, he took a deep pull on it and relished in the burning in his lungs as the hot smoke scorched them._

_Every fiber of his being wanted to peruse this monster, wanted to make them pay for what they had done; but he knew in his heart that he could not...For the first time in his life, he was truly happy and a sudden rush of terror spread through his mind at the thought of losing John or Rosie; he shoved this unpleasant thought away and steadied himself with another long drag of his cigarette._

_He closed his eyes to the cold unfeeling moon and clenched his free hand into a fist, he could not bear it any longer, he hastily stubbed out his cigarette, pulled out a packet of mints and took a moment to chew and further calm himself before he strode back into the flat to embrace the man that he loved so dearly._

Sherlock slipped back into the living room and checked once more on Rosie before gliding silently down the hallway to his room; he pushed open the door softly and found John looking out of the window at the starry sky, he smiled and walked over to him to wrap his arms around him from behind, John gave a little start but then settled as he realised it was him and not a deranged murderer; they stayed this way for a moment in contented silence, Sherlock’s arms around him made him feel so safe.

 

‘So….What’s the verdict then?’

 

Asked John turning in Sherlock's arms to face him with one eyebrow raised quizzically; Sherlock frowned slightly but did not relinquish the hold he had on John's waist.

 

‘Mycroft has agreed to assist us….He’s calling our parents to arrange the rest, I told him that if we’re going then so is he.’

 

John's other eyebrow joined its twin on the edge of his hairline and he couldn’t keep the satisfied smile off of his face.

 

‘You must have come to an agreement, there’s no way he’d come without getting something out of it.’

 

Sherlock's frown deepened as he stared at a patch of wall above John's head.

  

‘What on earth does Mycroft want in return?'

 

‘He didn’t say, not yet anyway…..He said it was for him to know and for me to find out.’

 

John snorted and cupped Sherlock's cheek to make him look him in the eye, Sherlock's face softened as John's warm hand touched his face and he smiled wryly.

  

‘Well, you’ve got to get a taste of your own medicine every now and then Sherl.’

 

Said John with a dark chuckle, Sherlock rolled his eyes and shut John up with a passionate kiss, John made a short lived sound of surprise before deciding it was better to just placate Sherlock by kissing him back, his arms moved of their own accord and rested around Sherlock's neck, he pulled away with a soft chuckle and nudged Sherlock gently.

 

‘You know that won’t always work.’

 

‘Yes it will.’

 

Answered Sherlock in a smug voice, John huffed out a laugh and looked away.

 

‘Shut up.’

  

'Or what?'

 

Asked Sherlock in a cocky voice, John turned to look up at him again and found that his face was very close to his and it almost startled him to see how beautiful his eyes were in the dim light of the room, all the points of light seemed to settle in his strange multicoloured irises and sparkle like stars...Fuck sake, when did he start thinking such flowery tripe? John looked thoughtful for a moment before he rested a hand on the nape of Sherlock's neck, he leaned up to whisper in his ear and smirked as he heard Sherlock's breath catch.

  

'Or I'll be forced to make you.'

 

'I dare you.'

 

Sherlock's voice was practically a purr, he smirked in triumph as John spun him around into the wall and kissed him with something close to desperation, he growled into Sherlock's mouth and wrapped his arms around his neck, he could feel Sherlock's heart beating out of his chest from the sudden rush of adrenaline to his system, he pulled away and reached up to whisper in Sherlock's ear.

 

I'm going to make you come so hard.'

 

Purred John into Sherlock's neck, he traced the line of the tendon with his tongue and heard his breathing stutter, he felt a rush of arousal run through him at the sound and slid a hand down to the front of Sherlock's tented trousers, he felt rather smug when he found the fabric stretched tight over a very obvious erection.

Sherlock closed his eyes and gasped, it was incredibly difficult to keep face when John was rubbing his calloused fingers over the front of his jeans to further provoke the his straining cock...John was going to be the end of him, John chuckled darkly and cupped Sherlock's cheek, and then he was kissing him with frenzied passion and pushing him down on the bed, he nipped at Sherlock's bottom lip and set about removing his trousers and boxers without any further hesitation, It was thrilling to see Sherlock in such a frenzied state and John could only smile darkly and think about what he had planned for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are super awesome. :)


	23. Morning Rituals.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DomesticLock, pancakes and fluff.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone.
> 
> I am so sorry for my lengthy absence!!!
> 
> I have been neglecting this poor fic for too long!!
> 
> I've had terrible writer's block and depression is a bitch.
> 
>  
> 
> So yeah, I'm back with a new chapter, I've written and re-written it several times.
> 
>  
> 
> It's a nice little chapter to make up for all the horrible murder.
> 
>  
> 
> Never thought I'd be typing that sentence....
> 
>  
> 
> A new chapter will be up sometime in the near future....
> 
> Again, sorry that I don't update as much as I probably should, but like I said, depression is a bitch.
> 
> I just felt the need to get the story moving again as Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Rosie travel to the Scottish summer house.
> 
>  
> 
> I KNOW that I haven't followed up on the Mystrade scene yet!!!
> 
>  
> 
> *Please don't kill me....I've got so much to give.*
> 
>  
> 
> I PROMISE that a full-blown Mystrade chapter is coming soon.  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy.

Chapter 23: Morning Rituals.

 

 

 

John woke feeling more rested than he had in days; he opened his eyes to a pale summer morning and an empty bed, for a moment he felt a pang of sadness and chided himself for it...Mary would not want him to mourn her forever....She would want him to be happy.

He yawned and sat up with a muffled groan, he stretched for a moment and sighed as his muscles settled before swinging his leg over the edge of the bed and stumbling to his feet; he pulled on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of fresh lounge pants and headed out of the room in the direction of the living room, awonderful smell greeted his nose as he walked into the kitchen...Freshly brewed coffee and pancakes...God above.

He quickly glanced over at Rosie who was sat in her high chair in the centre of the living room watching a terrifying looking program with a character called 'Iggle Piggle.' in it, Sherlock was standing with his back to him at the kitchen counter pouring coffee into their favourite mugs.

John watched in stunned silence and felt strangely proud that Sherlock had started pulling his weight in the flat, especially as he was now a single father and now definitely in a relationship with Sherlock, he smiled in amusement as Sherlock twisted effortlessly to flip the sixth pancake before moving to the cupboard to get the maple syrup, he moved so gracefully, It seemed to hit John suddenly that this was his life now, and he was so lucky with all he had, he loved Sherlock...There was no way around that fact and to see him making breakfast for the two of them was a sight he wanted to see for years to come.

 

‘Good morning.’

 

Said John softly, his grin showing in his voice; Sherlock whirled around and John's heart stopped for a second, God, hee really was beautiful, he was fully dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat, but he was barefoot, John had no idea why that seemed so odd to him, he has seen Sherlock naked and never thought about it before; yet it seemed so strange to see Sherlock so sharply dressed but barefoot, Sherlock smiled John's favourite smile and strode over to him, he leaned into John's personal space and placed a soft kiss on his cheekbone before drawing back.

  

‘Good morning John.’

 

Sherlock's voice was like a purr and made John's stomach flip pleasantly, John took the opportunity and pulled Sherlock in for a hug and ruffled his already messy curls; Sherlock pulled away chuckling and wandered back over to the pan to remove the pancake and turned to stack it onto two more already prepared ones before he picked up the plates and set them down on the kitchen table with the coffee, maple syrup and butter dish, he then picked up his coffee and took a sip, sighing as the caffeine rushed through his body.

 

‘Eat them whilst they're warm.’

 

Was all Sherlock said before sitting down and waiting for John, John raised an eyebrow incredulously.

 

‘I wasn’t aware that you knew how to cook anything in the kitchen without setting fire to it….And in turn the flat.’

  

'It only happened once.'

 

Muttered Sherlock.

 

'That's not the bloody point!'

 

Said John with a laugh.

 

‘I really do hope that for your own personal safety......That these pancakes aren't drugged, Sherlock....Because if they are.....You'll be the one going headfirst through the nearest window.'

  

Sherlock rolled his eyes in an impression worthy of Mycroft and John chuckled, they were more alike than either of them would be willing to admit.

  

‘It was the one time John!’

 

‘Yeah well, once is quite enough for me.’

 

John glanced back at Rosie.

 

‘By the way…What on earth is my child currently watching?’

  

Sherlock shrugged and took another sip of his coffee.

 

‘I have absolutely no idea...It looks and sounds awful though’

 

John huffed out a laugh.

  

‘Has she been changed and fed?’

 

Asked John pouring maple syrup onto his pancakes and reaching for the butter.’

 

‘Of course John, I consulted the internet and I am now fully informed on how to care for an infant.’

 

John raised his eyebrows and picked up his fork with a troubled expression, Sherlock sighed and smothered his pancakes in syrup and butter before picking up his own fork.

  

‘Oh for goodness sake John, they aren’t poisoned’.

 

John raised his eyebrows in a look of doubt.

  

‘OR DRUGGED!’

 

Added Sherlock, giving John his finest Bitchface, John still didn't look convinced and continued to eye the pancakes with suspicion.

 

‘Oh for fu....Look.’

 

Sherlock leaned across the table towards John and speared a small piece of his pancakes on his fork; he raised it to his lips and popped it into his mouth, he chewed for a moment before he swallowed the bite and then he smiled teasingly at John.

 

‘See? They’re safe......And they’re actually rather good.’

 

John eyed Sherlock suspiciously and dug into the possibly drugged pancakes, he speared some and took a slightly reluctant bite; his eyes closed and he moaned softly.

 

‘Told you.’

 

Said Sherlock with a triumphant grin that radiated smugness.

  

‘Shurruph.’

 

Mumbled John around a chunk of pancake, he swallowed it and eyed Sherlock with impressed amusement.

 

 

‘These are fucking delicious.’

 

Admitted John with a laugh, they really were, he eagerly speared some more of the pancakes and shoved them into his mouth with another sigh.

 

‘Quite the compliment.’

  

Said Sherlock in a rumbling voice, they ate in peaceful silence, as the muted sounds of Rosie's terrifying program drifted across to the kitchen.

 

'That truly is.....One of the creepiest kid's shows I've ever fucking seen......'

 

Said John in a slightly amused yet slightly horrified voice, Sherlock choked on the piece of pancake he was about to swallow and recovered pretty well all things considered, John giggled a little hysterically and continued.

 

'I think that it's going to give me nightmares for years to come, It's just bloody.....'

 

'Harrowing.'

 

Interrupted Sherlock, in an amused voice, they both descended into stifled giggles and then suddenly Sherlock's phone ringtone pierced the calm; They both jumped and John dropped his fork with a clatter, Sherlock hastily reached for his iPhone, knowing exactly who would be calling, he glanced at the screen before answering and putting his phone on loudspeaker.

 

‘Is everything ready?’

 

‘And a good morning to you too.’

 

Mycroft's voice sounded tired but still as sarcastic as ever.

  

‘A car will come for the three of you at ten o’clock sharp and take you to the ferry port, I do hope that you’ve had the sense to prepare.’

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

 

‘I’ve had everything necessary packed since the day after the hospital…..Do you really think that I would leave anything to chance with so much to lose?’

 

There was silence for a moment and Sherlock blushed scarlet as John's blue eyes zeroed in on his own and he smiled a radiant smile at him.

 

‘How very touching.’

 

Said Mycroft dryly.

  

‘When you’ve quite finished staring lovingly into each other’s eyes, I’d like to call your attention back to matter at hand.

 

‘Oh Jesus Christ Mycroft! You voyeuristic git...Have you bugged the flat?’

 

Asked John in an offended tone of voice. 

 

‘I can assure you that I only did it for fear of your safety Doctor Watson.’

 

Replied Mycroft cooly. 

  

'Well, I think that Sherlock and I can handle ourselves just fine without the nanny cams Mycroft and...'

 

'No, It's a good idea.'

 

Cut in Sherlock, John gaped at him, a little speechless.

 

'Why are you suddenly on his side?'

 

He asked indignantly. 

 

'Because it means that Mycroft's team of soulless robots can monitor the flat whilst we're away.

 

Said Sherlock patiently.

 

'Have you bugged Mr's Hudson's flat too?'

 

Asked Sherlock, Mycroft sighed.

 

'Of course we have you bloody idiot.'

 

John and Sherlock grinned at Mycroft's rare flashes of human emotion.

 

'Well, as soon as we come back I want the ones in our flat removed.'

 

Said John in a pleasant yet dangerous voice, there was an unpleasant silence.

 

‘As I was saying…’

 

Began Mycroft but he was cut off straight away.

 

‘Yes! Yes! A car will arrive at ten and take us to the ferry.'

 

Said Sherlock impatiently.

  

'I heard you the first time, what about you?’ You're not getting out of this Mycroft.'

 

Mycroft sighed and tried to be patient.

 

I’ll be arriving in a separate car shortly before you do to make sure everything is in order.’

 

He said curtly.

  

‘My my, you are touchy this morning.’

 

Said Sherlock silkily into the phone whilst pushing a large piece syrup coated pancakes around his plate.

 

‘Didn’t mother teach you not to play with your food brother dear?’

 

Drawled Mycroft in an infuriatingly smug voice, Sherlock smiled wryly.

 

'Touché brother dear.'

 

‘I am really not okay with these bloody cameras.’

 

Said John in an affronted voice, Sherlock snorted but vowed to debug the flat as soon as they arrived back at Baker Street, a feeling of revulsion coursed through him at the thought of what his brother might have seen.

 

'You know...'

 

Said Sherlock in a placid voice, a stark contrast to the way that he was stabbing at his pancakes violently with his fork.

 

‘I think I might actually murder you one day Mycroft.’

  

He heard Mycroft chuckle softly.

 

 

'See you soon Sherlock.'

 

 

Sherlock scowled when Mycroft hung up without another word, Sherlock vowed to make his brother's life very uncomfortable whilst they were in Scotland.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated. :)


	24. Respite.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Rosie finally arrive at the Summer house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there guys, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while.  
> I just haven't been feeling all that inspired lately.
> 
> And then at 4 AM this just sort of happened.
> 
> I'm gonna try to update again as soon as I can.
> 
> I really hope you guys like it.

_ Chapter Twenty Four: Respite. _

_It was almost nightfall before they finally arrived at the summer house, they had travelled down a long, rugged track that seemed to go on forever; it was hemmed in by pine trees and there were pretty black lanterns on posts to light the way to the house with a dim amber glow until finally, they came to a stop outside the beautiful house._

_It was a large, four-story Victorian manor house made from gleaming sanstone that sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight, the house was nestled in amongst sleek silver birch and towering dark green pine trees; it was an eerie, otherworldly but beautiful place, the night was silent except for the sound of the wind and soft sounds of the nearby ocean._

_It was almost eerie to hear the waves crashing against the craggy cliff face before they withdrew again with a sound like a sigh, they exited their respective cars and John paused to tuck Rosie’s blankets tighter around her, she didn't stir as she was worn out from her first big trip._

_Sherlock squeezed his shoulder and gave him an apologetic look, the look vanished as Mycroft gently rapped on the front door; he drew back and straightened up, his face became impassive and only his eyes betrayed his anxiety, John shivered and was quite sure that it was nothing to do with the chilly night air; he’d never given thought to what Sherlock’s parents would think about their relationship, they both seemed to be lovely, and John had become quite fond of them; surely they wouldn't disown Sherlock and shun him.....But throughout the entire journey, he had been lost in deep thought about the month’s events and was having a silent axiety attack about Sherlock's parents._

_He let out a small sight and glalnced over at Rosie, she was fast asleep in the seat next to him and he smiled fondly at her, he turned his face back to the window and stared out at the idyllic countryside, the rugged heather-covered hills and the deep green forests had an unbound and wild kind of beauty to them, h_ _is eyes flickered to the front of the car to stare at Sherlock who was in the passenger seat; he was gazing out of the window but John could only see the reflection of his face in the glass._

_He wanted to look Sherlock in the eye and offer him reassurance but this was impossible with the presence of the grim-faced driver, the journey was nothing short of torture and he had no idea what he was getting himself into, he took a deep breath and then blew it out to calm himself._

_A light came on in the hall and then a multi-coloured image of Mrs Holmes was smiling at them from behind the stained glass door, she opened the door and smiled fondly at them all, she stepped out of the way and motioned for them to come in, Mycroft set his luggage down and glided over to the door, he swiftly typed a code into a small keypad  and then he bent to use a retina scanner to activate a custom defence protocol to secure the perimiter and grounds of the house._

_Sherlock raised and eyebrow at John, John bit his lip and tried his best to surpress a snort, he never, ever thought he would be thinking this but....Mycroft had recently become something of a badass._

_Mrs homes smiled, pulled Sherlock down by his shoulders and hugged him tightly; she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek and patted his dishevelled curls affectionately, John loved Sherlock very. VERY. Much. But it took all his willpower not to burst out laughing at the horrified/disgusted look on his face._

_Mycroft snorted at his brother's predicament but didn't get to enjoy it for long as his mother released Sherlock and dragged him down into a rib-cracking hug that knocked all of the air out of his lungs in a startled grunt, really, his mother was remarkably strong for her age, she placed a kiss on his cheek too, much to his mortification and then thankpully  pulled away smiling fondly, she attempted to hug Sherlock again but he shrank back towards John without even thinking._

 

_If Mrs Holmes noticed the panicked look mirrored on Sherlock and John's faces she hid it splendidly, she knew when to keep her thoughts and questions to herself, she smiled widely at them all and in her brightest voice said._

 

_‘Well, I'm glad that you all got here safely; did you have a good journey?’_

 

_Sherlock grunted and shrugged, Mycroft shot him a stern look. over their mother's shoulder, Sherlock sighed dramatically and spoke in a voice that laced with his usual sarcasm.  
_

_'The journey was as tedious as ever Mother, but anything I have to do with Mycroft usually is.'_

 

_Mycroft gave him a look that would have made any of his staff recoil, but Sherlock just smirked, John managed to suppress the urge to burst out laughing and gave Mrs Holmes what he hoped was a polite smile, she didn't even bat an eyelid, Sherlock and Mycroft had been squabling since they were children and she knew that it was pointless to scold Sherlock.  
_

_'Where's father?'_

_Asked Mycroft in a tired voice; his limbs felt like lead, as much as he wanted to deny it, he needed this brief bout of solitude, he knew that It probably wouldn't last long so he supposed he'd better try to enjoy it._

 

_'He's gone up to bed early, he came across some first edition Oscar Wilde essays in an antique shop before we set out and he won't put the bloody things down!'_

 

_Sherlock and Mycroft both snorted and exchanged glances, a beat of silence followed until Rosie broke it with a, particularly loud snore, Mrs Holmes’s eyes softened as she looked at the beautiful little girl; she smiled and motioned for them all to follow her into the large living room the room had high ceilings and the walls were bedecked with photos and bookshelves that were almost overflowing with old, leather-bound books,John could see family photos of the two brothers as children and a few that looked like Eurus._

_He would have to take a closer look at them and maybe 'borrow' a few of Mycroft for future bribery purposes.  
_

_There was a huge granite mantelpiece containing a blazing fire, it was composed of pine logs and driftwood and crackled merrily; blue and green flames danced and flickered casting shadows onto the faces of portraits hung on the dark, wood-panelled walls of the dimly lit room, It was lit by several ornate gold candelabras, the floors were dark polished wood and it glinted in the soft low light of the candle flames, there were two long sofas clad in dark suede with fluffy white cushions; there were also two comfortable looking leather oxford armchairs, Mrs Homes sighed happily and surveyed them all with a warm smile._

_'Well, I'm sure you're all worn out from your journey, Sherlock dear, Please don't do any of your bloody experiments, I'm quite fond of this house and I don't want a repeat of the last time you were here.'_

 

_John glanced over at Sherlock but Sherlock just scowled at the floor like a small child being told off._

_'Mrs Holmes smiled at John with tired blue eyes._

 

_'John, your room is next to Sherlock's and I've put his Moses basket in there for Rosie, along with some of his old stuffed animals.'_

 

_Mycroft smirked as his little brother's face turned a delicate shade of pink, he knew that Sherlock wouldn't go easy on him while they were at the summer house, but Mycroft knew Sherlock very, very well, If he wanted to play dirty during this little holiday, then two could play at that game._

 

_Mrs Holmes seemed oblivious to her son's reddening face; she smiled at them and assured them all that if they needed anything she would be on hand, Sherlock picked up his suitcase and glided out of the living room leaving John no choice but to bid Mrs Holmes and Mycroft good night and awkwardly hurry out of the room after him, John hurried up the winding staircase, careful not to jostle his sleeping daughter; he found Sherlock waiting for him on the set of stairs leading up to the attic of the house, He looked tired and pale from the journey and his dark curls were uncharacteristically dishevelled against his temples, John gave him a fond, knowing smile._

_‘How very like you to brood in the rafters like the phantom of the opera.'_

 

_Sherlock rolled his eyes and motioned for him to follow him up the flight of stairs, turning on his heel without another word, they stopped at an oak door with his name stamped on a gold plaque and John suppressed the urge to snort at how very Sherlock it all was, there was another door adjacent to  Sherlock's, He opened the door and lead the way inside._

_The room was bright and cosy, with pale yellow walls and a whitewashed floor; There was a single bed with a pretty black metal frame, a side table and a lamp, there was also a white rocking chair and a Moses basket standing in the corner of the room with a white lace canopy draped over it, nestled in the plush blankets were a brown threadbare rabbit that was missing an ear and a white teddy bear wearing a green jumper and an eyepatch._

_John smiled softly as he extracted Rosie from her car seat and gently placed her into the Moses basket, she let out a soft snore and snuggled deeper into the blankets surrounding her, Sherlock hugged John from behind and kissed the back of his neck tenderly, John let out a contented sigh and turned around to face Sherlock with a weary yet affectionate smile on his face, Sherlock smiled back, took John by the hand and lead him out of the room._

_Sherlock's bedroom was a much grander affair, the walls were clad with dark oak panelling and a large wooden four poster bed dominated the middle of the room, dark blue silk sheets, and a russet faux fur throw over a sleek black duvet, Sherlock closed the heavy wooden door and turned the key in the brass lock before he glided over to the large bed, he reached out a hand a trailed his fingertips over the soft furs and silk with a contented smile._

_John wandered into the ensuite bathroom to set down his bag of toiletries and to change into his new lounge pants, It was quite large for a bathroom, there was a large gold showerhead suspended on the ceiling and the floor was dark wooden slats with a large plughole in the centre surrounded by a square of granite tiles that glinted in the warm glow of several lights emedded in the walls._

_He changed, freshened up and headed back into the bedroom and smiled as he saw Sherlock curled up in the large four poster bed, he was facing away from him so he quietly walked over and slid into the bed behing him; He turned on his side and slid an arm around Sherlock's chest, he kissed the back of his neck, Sherlock sighed contentedly and leaned back into his touch, the house was quiet and peaceful, save for the sound of the wind and the soft sound of their rapidly slowing breathing._

_John was the first to fall asleep, Sherlock's was content to drift on the edge of sleep, being held by the man he would give his life for again and again without question; The warm weight of him against his back filled him with a sense of complete tranquillity, his eyes were becoming heavier and heavier until finally, he lapsed into a deep, coma-like sleep.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos would be super awesome. =]


	25. Sanctuary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock has a nightmare.
> 
>  
> 
> John comforts him.
> 
>  
> 
> Sherlock and John are precious cinnamon rolls.
> 
>  
> 
> Pure fluffy goodness.

** ||Sanctuary|| **

 

John woke in the early hours of the morning to peaceful silence; he glanced over at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece and saw that is was just shy of seven in the morning, he glanced at Sherlock who was sleeping soundly against the silk pillows with a dark curtain of hair covering most of his face, he reached over to gently push the silky strands out of the way to reveal Sherlock’s beautiful face, It was a sin to cover a face this pretty.

Sherlock let out a soft sigh and snuggled deeper into the pillows, John grinned and tucked the duvet tighter around him and slipped out of the bed to get a book from his rucksack, he pulled out his well-worn copy of ‘The Silence of the Lambs.’

He knew that it wasn’t exactly normal reading material to help one fall asleep but he’d been trying to push out the horrible thoughts of those mutilated bodies in the hospital and replacing them with fictional murders seemed the best way to go, he was trying his hardest to forget the dead look in Sherlock’s eyes as he stood hunched against those railings smoking a cigarette with a shaking hand, he saw a shocking similarity between Sherlock Holmes and Clarice Starling, they were both ruthless in their pursuits and found themselves entangled with a murderer/psychopath, they took risks, broke down barriers and defied authority and they had both almost died in their pursuit of Justice.

John padded back to the bed and slipped back beneath the duvet, he puffed up his pillows and opened the book at a page marked with a black leather bookmark, hand tilled with Gold stitching, a gift from Mary, he began to read chapter twelve, one of his favorites, he admired how Clarice Starling kept her cool in the presence of Kimberly Emberg, and the way Sherlock always seemed so cool and in control around the dead...The look on His face outside the hospital had frightened him, Sherlock had seen something that had managed to pierce his veneer of emotional detachment, he jumped as Sherlock let out a low moan and then a soft whimper

 

And then all of a sudden, Sherlock had begun screaming the house down and curled up into a foetal position on the bed, clutching the sheets hard enough to tear them, John hurriedly dumped the book on the bed side table and took Sherlock in his arms, fortunately, this was the best thing he could have done, as Sherlock started awake, panting and shaking like a wreck and then watching his face morph into pure terror.

 

‘Sherlock, love, its okay, I’m here…...’

 

Sherlock realised that he was trembling violently and absolutely drenched in sweat, he was inhaling sharp, jagged breaths and his whole body was trembling; He felt a rush of paralysing fear engulf him, real, all consuming heart stopping terror...So acute that you can’t even force out a single breath...Your lungs freeze in your chest and it feels like someone has their hands around your neck...Choking you until you think you’ll suffocate....And then…All you can do is focus on just how utterly frightened you are...

He wasn’t really sure when he had started to cry, but suddenly he felt himself being hoisted up into a pair of warm, strong arms and a gentle voice spoke into his ear.

 

‘I’m here...I’m not going anywhere...I love you.’

 

He settled into John's embrace and let out a shaky sigh into the warm, soft pleasant smelling cotton of his recently laundered t-shirt, one of John's hands reached out to stroke his hair, it reminded him of when he had been a child and his mother would stroke his hair until he fell asleep, there was a pleasant silence between them and he found that he was glad of it because he wasn’t sure he would be able to form words as John continued to card his fingers through his hair, making him go all boneless and content.

John spoke softly into the crown of Sherlock's hair and he could feel his warm breath against his scalp, it made him go tingly all over his relaxed body and he felt his stomach squirm pleasantly.

 

‘I won’t ask what your nightmare was about, I respect your privacy and if you want to...In time…You can tell me about it…But, right now, all I want you to do is lie here with me for a little while and then I’ll go make us some tea.’

 

Sherlock looked up at John with glassy eyes, the shadow of the nightmare still lingered on his handsome face, It was a sight John hoped to never see again, his eyes were utterly wild and radiated pure fear, John knew that look...He had seen it in Mary’s eyes as she bled out on the floor of that darkened aquarium...It all seemed like a lifetime ago now.

He gently pulled Sherlock by one thin wrist so that he was lying against his chest and for a moment he just stared at him, carefully deciding on his next move, he was saved the trouble when Sherlock reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, he smiled that watery smile again and then stretched up to kiss him softly on the lips, John could taste his tears but he didn’t care, he just allowed Sherlock to take what he needed from him.

The kiss was chaste and sweet, languid and blissful; it wasn’t a kiss that led to more passionate kisses; it just stayed at the edge of flame and John could feel Sherlock’s love for him in every kiss, Sherlock pulled away and embraced him in a tight hug, kissing his neck softly and gently running his fingers through his hair, they lay in each other’s arms for a while longer before he bent his head to kiss Sherlock’s forehead and gently began to untangle himself from Sherlock's tight embrace.

 

He stood up and stretched before turning back to Sherlock.

 

‘Tea?’

 

Sherlock smiled and nodded, he admired John's half naked body in the dim light of the room; he was wearing a pair of oh so appropriate blue tartan lounge pants that he supposed John had purchased as soon as he had told him where they were going, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, but he definitely wasn’t complaining either...Now that he had calmed down somewhat and he has become rational again he could only focus on how good John looked in the low light of the lamp on the bedside table; it highlighted the golden hues of his skin and made his silvery hair glimmer...God his was perfect...His John...His wonderful, magnificent, extraordinary John Watson...His chest exploded with love and affection for the beautiful being standing before him like a god.

 

John grinned cheekily as he watched Sherlock staring at him with his beautiful shimmering eyes; his gaze was somewhere between hungry and dumbstruck and it sent a pleasant jolt through his abdomen and stomach to know that Sherlock found him attractive.

 

‘I figured, since we were in Scotland that I should get something Tartan, I’m glad you like them.’

 

John walked over to a mahogany desk and picked up his overnight bag and Rosie’s before turning to smile at Sherlock again; he had relaxed slightly and was lying against the pillows and still looking at him with that same searching look, John walked into the bathroom, once inside, he shrugged out of his crumpled clothes and opened his bag to retrieve a fresh set; he changed, brushed his teeth and freshened up with a flannel and bar of oatmeal and lavander soap, no time for a shower, it was time to tend to Rosie, he walked back into the bedroom and gave Sherlock a fond smile.

 

‘I’ll be back soon love, I expect Rosie will be awake soon.’

 

Sherlock smiled weakly at him and reached for his phone, John padded back out of the hallway and slowly opened the door to Rosie’s makeshift nursery...Another one...Hewould have to talk to Sherlock about a permanent room for Rosie, but that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was the sight of his sleeping daughter, he tiptoed over to the crib and watched her stir as he cooed her name.

 

‘Good morning sweetheart, it’s time for breakfast.’

 

Rosie opened her eyes and stared sleepily up at him, she babbled as John lifted her out of the crib and carried her over to the changing table; he swiftly cleaned her and changed her into a new diaper, he unzipped the bag containing her clothes and began to pull out a pink and white vest and a pale blue babygrow; he attempted to distract his squirming child and finally managed to get her tiny arms and legs into the clothes.

He turned to grab Rosie’s bag and swung it over his shoulder before scooping up his daughter into arms that shook only a little.  
She was so light and fragile looking, but John’s arms were steady now as he exited the room and descended the stairs to the first floor and went in search of the kitchen.

The room was sleek, yet homely, burnished copper pans hung from the ceiling and the flagstone floors were made of dark polished granite, there was a large mahogany table in the middle of the room with enough chairs for all of them, plus a matching high chair, the kitchen counters were made of beautifully veined marble and all in all, it was a beautiful kitchen, Mrs Holmes was standing at the far side of the room washing dishes.

 

‘Good morning Mrs Holmes.’

 

She turned at the sound of his voice and smiled softly at the two of them.

 

‘Good morning John and good morning Rosie! You sit down John, you’ve come a long way, I’ll fix Rosie’s breakfast.’

 

John’s cheeks felt hot.

 

‘No, really, Mrs Holmes, you don’t have to…….’

 

‘Oh don’t be silly John, I’m a highly experienced mother, and after all, I have somehow managed to raise my boys without throttling them...But I do miss the time when they were little, small enough for me to carry them in my arms….They were such good babies.’

 

Mrs Holmes’s pretty light blue eyes looked wistful and a little bright.

 

‘Mycroft hardly cried at all, Sherlock was lovely as a little boy….He was such a gentle child...Eurus.....Well.....'

 

Mrs Holmes turned away and tried unsuccesfully to hide a small sob, John had the tact not to comment, she turned back to him with overbright eyes and a brave smile.

 

‘I never thought my boys would grow up to be such an insufferable pain in the arse!’

 

John let out a surprised laugh and he grinned at her, He was a little more than relieved that they could talk so freely amongst each other.

 

‘Well, you’re not wrong there.'

 

Mrs Holmes smiled and walked over to him, she held her hand out for Rosie’s bag and John could do nothing but meekly hand it over to her.  
He busied himself getting Rosie settled in the high chair and distracting her with funny faces.

 

‘Tea, dear?’

 

Asked Mrs Holmes over her shoulder as she filled the kettle.’

 

‘Ooh, yes please, strong with a little bit of milk and no sugar.’

 

‘Right you are.’

 

Said Mrs Holmes cheerily, she turned and carried the kettle over to the stove and light a fire under it, she opened the fridge to get the milk and turned to smile at John warmly as he made silly faces for Rosie, A few minutes later, Mrs Holmes placed a pretty china cup of steaming tea in front of him and then held out a bottle of baby formula for him to take, Rosie made excited cooing noises as she saw the bottle in John’s hand and wriggled impatiently for her breakfast.

 

‘Alright, you little madam, I’ll feed you in a minute!’

  
He said in an affectionate tone, he took a sip of his tea and sighed as the warm liquid spread down his throat it settled comfortingly in his stomach; Rosie gurgled impatiently and John laughed softly and picked her up to feed her, she instantly quieted down and busily guzzled down her breakfast; Mrs Holmes was perched on the edge of the kitchen table with a soft smile on her face, John felt his own lips pull up into a gentle smile as he stared down at his daughter with ever-mounting affection.

They sat in peaceful silence, broken only by the soft sucking sounds of Rosie as she greedily finished her bottle, at last, she was finished and John set the now empty bottle on the table; he reached into Rosie's bag to fish out a packet of wet wipes and gently cleaned her mouth and chin, she cooed happily at him and waved her chubby little arms and legs.

 

‘Bloody hell, you’re adorable.’

 

Mrs Holmes chuckled fondly and stared dotingly at Rosie with an intensely maternal expression on her kind face.

 

‘How about me and the old codger take Rosie out for a drive around the neighboring village so that you and the boys can relax for a little bit, I know a nice little tearoom that’s been around for eons that does the most marvelous Victoria sponge cake; it was Sherlock and Mycroft’s favorite when they were children, I’ll bring some back for pudding, I do love to see my boys smiling, it means they aren’t talking.’

 

John giggled at the thought of a young Sherlock with jam and cream around his mouth as he tucked into a slice of cake, he was touched by Mrs Holmes’s kindness; it seemed as if she had taken both him and his daughter under her wing.

 

‘I know how tiring being a parent can be but as I said, I do adore little children.’

 

John smiled warmly at Mrs homes and considered her kind offer; He was feeling pretty exhausted from all the recent stress and travel, he remembered how tired Sherlock had looked when they’d arrived at the house; he was ghostly pale with dusky lilac crescents under his silver-blue eyes, how disheveled his dark hair had been and how uncharacteristically diminished he seemed to look.

 

‘That would be very kind of you, Mrs Holmes, I must say, I’d forgotten just how much a long day of travelling can wear you out, Rosie’s car seat is out in the hall, there are some extra clothes if she needs them, nappies, creams and more wet wipes, my contact number is in the green notebook, along with all her medical infor……’

 

Mrs Holmes cut him off as soon as she could get a word in edgeways.

 

‘For heaven’s sake John, you’re being hysterical, as I pointed out, I’m a highly experienced parent, I’m quite sure that everything will be fine.’

 

John took a deep breath and felt his cheeks go hot.

 

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Holmes, it’s just…’

 

Mrs Holmes sighed and reached out to squeeze his hand.

 

‘It’s only natural John, I know that it’s been incredibly hard for you since your poor wife passed away…..You and your daughter are important to Sherlock, so therefore you are important to me.’

 

John felt his eyes sting with tears and his heart blossomed with newfound affection for Mrs Holmes, she was the stern Matriarch of the family, but she was also an incredibly kind woman with more patience than all of the saints put together…..You’d have to be to stay sane.

 

‘You’re very kind, Mrs Holmes.’

 

Mrs Holmes smiled warmly at him.

 

‘Please, call me Violet, or, if you prefer, Vi.’

 

John's cheeks were beginning to ache from all of the smiling he was doing.

 

‘Then, I’ll call you Vi.’

 

They smiled at each other, both basking in the newfound kinship.

 

‘Well, now that’s settled, I’ll get Rosie ready for her trip and you can unwind for a bit, feel free to make breakfast and more tea, I bought some of the boys favorite Earl Grey, it’s in the green tin, help yourself to biscuits too...I know Sherlock doesn't eat much but do try to tempt him with some of the lemon shortcakes, they go very well with the tea.’

 

John grinned knowingly at her, thanked her and then wandered over to the sink to fill the kettle, he stood for a moment, holding the kettle aloft and looking around the kitchen with a slightly lost expression on his face.  
Mrs Holmes saw his dilemma and chuckled.

 

'Cups are in the cupboard next to the fridge and the cutlery draw is the one by the microwave.’

  
John smiled gratefully at her and set the kettle down on the stove, He pulled out another delicately patterned willow china teacup and saucer and walked back to the table for his own tea, sipping it with a sigh before setting it down and rummaging in the cutlery drawer for a teaspoon, he opened the green and gold tin and pulled out a ridiculously fancy silk teabag, the bright scents of bergamot and lemon filled his nostrils and he snorted as he placed it in the mug.

  
A few minutes later the kettle’s shrill whistle broke the silence and John took it off the heat, he carried it over to the teacup and deftly poured in the boiling water the light brown tea began to bleed through the opaque silk of teabag and created swirls of colour in the water, he opened the biscuit tin and neatly stacked a few of the shortcake rounds onto the two respective saucers and then stepped back to admire his handiwork.

He absentmindedly picked up one of the biscuits and took a bite, he moaned softly as the sweet buttery taste spread over his tongue with just the right balance of lemon to offset the richness, there was no way that even Sherlock would refuse such a treat, Mrs Holmes came back into the room with a firm grip on her husband’s hand; he looked slightly groggy but smiled widely when he saw Rosie buckled safely into her car seat and all wrapped up in a pretty pink coat with a white fur trim and matching mittens.

 

She really was a darling.

 

‘Good morning Mr Holmes, thank you for agreeing to take Rosie out on her first Highland trip.’

 

Mr Holmes smiled and fiddled with a loose thread on his jumper.

 

‘Not to worry John, the Mrs hasn’t stopped talking about your little one since you arrived.’

 

John felt a surge of family feeling towards Sherlock’s parents, his only concern was what would happen when they found out he was in a relationship with their youngest son…These last thoughts were far too unpleasant for such a lovely morning so he firmly banished them from his mind and turned back to Sherlock’s tea that was now well steeped and almost ready.

 

‘I don’t suppose you have any lemons do you?’

 

Mrs Holmes nodded to the fridge and fussed over her husband and the now giggling Rosie; Mr Holmes was patting Rosie’s cheek and stroking her wispy blonde hair, John found the lemons and pulled out a knife from the large block by the stove, he sliced a thin circle of lemon and added it to Sherlock’s tea with a flourish; he placed the lemon back in the salad drawer and turned to smile at his daughter, he walked over to her and bent to kiss her forehead tenderly.

 

‘Now, you behave little miss, be nice for Mr and Mrs Holmes and please don’t turn into a screaming banshee.’

 

He knew she probably wouldn’t now that she has been fed, but he enjoyed playfully scolding her so that she would giggle at him and pat his face with her dainty little hands, hrs Holmes eyed him playfully and smiled.

 

‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll be a little angel, She’s a wonderfully placid little girl but her eyes are so clever and cheeky, bless her!’

 

Mr and Mrs Holmes said their goodbyes to him and it was with slight apprehension that he watched them leave with his little girl, he knew it was irrational and it was only natural for any new parent to be constantly terrified...It wasn’t just him...Was it? He huffed out a deep breath and picked up the two china cups, he hurried out of the kitchen and began the climb to the attic.

 

He crept up the attic stairs and heard faint Violin echoing down from Sherlock's attic room, he set down the teacups on a conveniently placed shelf and softly opened the door, Sherlock was sitting on the edge of the four poster bed, playing a soft, melancholy tune that tugged at John's heart, he cleared his throat and Sherlock stopped on a low note and turned to look at him; his eyes widened momentarily and then a smile spread across his face.

 

‘I just had a chat with your lovely mum, I didn’t think anyone would be up, I’m not used to seeing people before midday so it was quite a shock to find her doing dishes at seven in the morning.’

 

Sherlock snorted and placed his violin and bow in the case, he stood up and set it down on his desk before turning back to John, he could smell the bittersweet scent of lemon and bergamot of the steaming tea and the buttery smell of shortbread, John offered him a cup and saucer which he took gratefully, he set it down and picked up the bone china teacup and took a sip, and he sighed as the hot tea trickled down his throat and filled him with a warm sense of comfort.

John sat down on the bed with his own cup and saucer and also took a sip of his tea, it seemed quite ridiculous to be drinking builder’s brew out of a dainty china teacup, he fought down his desire to laugh and took a bite of his shortbread, it really was good, he watched as Sherlock nibbled daintily at one of his own and looked lovingly at him with those crystalline eyes.

 

‘Are you feeling a bit better now love?’

 

Sherlock’s pale cheeks flushed pink at the term of endearment and he smiled a radiant smile.

 

‘Much better, Thanks to you.’

 

John grinned and took a larger sip of his tea before sighing.

 

‘Tea is the answer to everything.’

 

Sherlock snorted and set down his cup and saucer, John did the same, Sherlock stared at him for a moment and then scooted up the bed to be closer to him; he moved to lie down on the bed and John took the hint, he straddled Sherlock and could feel heat radiating off of his body and he was still trembling slightly.

 

‘I love you John.’

 

John beamed at him and reached up to gently stroke his cheek.

 

 

‘I love you too Sherlock…..God I love you.’

 

Sherlock surged forward and kissed him hard, John responded with equal ferocity, John's hands slipped down the front of Sherlock’s bare chest and he felt him shiver at his touch, he was wound so tightly that every brush of his fingers against Sherlock’s velvety soft skin forced tiny gasps and moans from him against John's mouth; he let his hand continue its journey down Sherlock’s sternum, abdomen and hips; he glided his fingertips over the hard bulge in his silky lounge pants and felt it hot and throbbing with need, Sherlock broke away from him with a moan and pressed hot kisses into his neck.

John made a rough noise in the back of his throat and thrust his hand into Sherlock’s lounge pants and was both pleased and incredibly turned on to find Sherlock bare beneath them; he gripped his cock and marvelled at the steely, silk covered shaft, Sherlock let out a breathy choked off moan and buried his head in John's shoulder; he bit his lips hard enough to draw blood as John spread his thumb over the head of his cock; he whimpered and arched up into John's touch.

John chuckled darkly and began to place hot, open mouthed kisses on Sherlock’s pale chest, he smirked as Sherlock gasped and felt his stomach and abdomen clench as his kissed descended closer and closer to his hard, aching cock, John glanced down and moaned at the sight of it, lying hot and heavy against his flat stomach, long and thick and beautiful.

 

John pressed hot kisses into Sherlock’s hipbones and down the crease of his inner thigh and smirked as Sherlock groaned and canted his hips, he swooped down and licked a hot, wet stripe up the underside of Sherlock’s cock and relished the sound of his deep moan that choked off abruptly as John slipped his mouth around his cock and sucked gently, Sherlock closed his eyes tight and gripped John's silvery hair in his fist and let his head fall back against the pillows.

John's mouth was smooth and hot and utterly perfect, he moaned as John took more of him into his mouth and sucked hard on the heated flesh; his mouth fell open as he felt John's tongue swirl up and down his cock before he pulled off with a purr, Sherlock felt utterly smothered by his intense arousal and could only cry out and clench his free fist into the sheets as a way to anchor himself against the sharp waves of pleasure as John swirled his tongue around the head of his cock and then sunk his mouth down on it again.

John began to bob his head and kept up a steady rhythm; delighting in the sound of Sherlock’s delicious moans as he set about devouring him, Sherlock’s breath hitched and his eyes rolled back in his head as John swallowed around him with slick, tight contractions; it was almost too much but also not enough, his hips were bucking of their own accord but John's rhythm did not falter.

 

‘John……Fffuck…….That feels so good……I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on……’

 

Sherlock’s breathy rambling was making John's head spin as he continued to undo him with his mouth and tongue; he gripped his hipbones and took in as much of Sherlock’s cock as he could, Sherlock let out a strangled moan and felt his orgasm creeping closer and closer; he was teetering on the edge and one more slide of John's silky tongue against his cock was all it took to send him tumbling into his orgasm, his vision went white and he continued to moan brokenly as he spent himself into John's hot throat, his entire body seized up and with one last growl of pleasure, all of his bones disappeared, Sherlock fell back against the bed, still moaning softly and shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm; John swallowed his seed and then released his cock from his mouth, Sherlock gasped and then let out a breathy, sated moan and opened his eyes to smile lazily at John.

 

‘That was unexpected.’

 

He said in a rough voice, he felt like he was floating and was blissfully content with the world at present.

 

‘You weren’t complaining.’

 

Answered John in a smug voice, he scooted up to pillow his head on Sherlock’s chest, he could still feel his heart fluttering madly like a trapped bird; Sherlock reached down to lace his fingers through one of John's hands and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to his forehead, John smiled and allowed himself to dose happily in Sherlock’s arms, Sherlock himself has lost his train of though and his eyelids were drooping in his post orgasmic haze.

In the end it was John who drifted off first, listening to the flutter of Sherlock’s heart and the sound of his slow, soft breathing; John's eyelids were getting heavier and heavier until he couldn’t even keep them open, it was wise that they caught a few hours of sleep before they were subjected to what was probably going to be a very awkward dinner that they had no way of getting out of...John's last conscious thought was that he hoped that Sherlock didn’t dream and would not have any more nightmares for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos would be super cool. :) xx


	26. Distractions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft talks with mummy and tries to explain to her the nature of the abrupt visit without giving too much away.
> 
>  
> 
> Sherlock and John share an EXTREMELY FLUFFY moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half of this chapter ties Mycroft into the end of chapter 24.  
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)

 

 

 

 

 Mycroft watched John hurry out of the living room with a slightly amused look on his face, it dissolved as his mother turned back to face him and he suddenly felt like a child again under her pale blue gaze, she sat herself down in one of the comfortable armchairs and nodded at him to take the seat opposite her; she reclined like a pleased cat in her chair and fixed him with a fond but coy expression. 

 

'It’s wonderful to see you all Mycroft, but I don’t think that you’ve come all this way just to visit.’

 

Mycroft let out a sigh and settled himself in the comfortable wingback; he did not meet his mother’s gaze but he hoped that his voice was steady.

 

'There has been a rather unpleasant incident in London...And obviously, Sherlock has become involved with the case.' 

 

Mrs Holmes sighed and fixed her son with a carefully garded expression.

 

‘Well….Let’s hear the worst of it then...' 

 

Mycroft almost snorted at her choice of words, if he told her 'The worst of it.'  She would probably end up as mentally scarred as him, he looked down at the polished wooden floor, took a deep breath and chose his next words very carefully.

 

‘The Police were called out to an abandoned Hospital on the outskirts of London……Some children broke in to go ghost hunting and came across something horrific...Nobody should have to see what they saw......Especially children.'

 

Mycroft's voice broke slightly on the last word and he shuddered at a particularly recent and unpleasant memory, the large manila envelope had been sat on his desk for hours now, he had stared at it as if it was a particularly venomous snake that would bite him, but, in the end, professional/morbid curiosity had finally gotten the better of him and he’d taken out the crime scene photographs, bile had risen in his throat as he took in the harrowing images...He had seen a lot of things…But this was different.

The precision and skill of the awful procedures carried out on the victims made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, just imagining the prolonged suffering of the victims and the terror that they must have experienced made him want to vomit.

 

Mrs Holmes pursed her lips and eyed her son with a stern expression.

 

‘I worry for him….And I worry for you, Mycroft.’

 

Mycroft’s heart clenched painfully and he continued to gaze at the floor, he had to make his mother understand that he would protect his little brother at all costs, he knew that he had failed her by concealing Eurus’s true fate....But he had done it with the best of intentions...He wasn’t good at expressing his feelings and she knew that better than anyone else…He hated how badly he had hurt his parents and even thinking about it made his eyes begin to sting, he tried his hardest to keep his voice level as he spoke.

 

Sherlock is difficult…He’s stubborn and proud and he generally doesn’t play well with others…But I do believe that his heart is in the right place.’

 

Mrs Holmes smiled almost sadly. 

 

'I think you may have just described yourself, darling……’

 

She leaned forwards and touched her son’s cheek, forcing him to look at her; he relented but fixed her with a sulky expression that she ignored, she softly cupped his cheek and spoke in her most tender voice.

 

'You are both capable of great feeling and you are more alike than either of you will admit…..'

 

She looked deep into his eyes with an expression that he hadn't seen since he was a child, she gripped his hand tightly and brought it to her lips.

 

'I am sorry for how I spoke to you the last time we saw each other darling....’

 

She kissed his hand with the softness and gentleness of a butterfly's wing, before she let out a deep sigh and leaned back in her chair once more, she fixed him with a fond yet exasperated smile and spoke in a gentle voice.

 

‘I was angry with you Mycroft.......But I realize that there's no point in dwelling on the past...Eurus is alive.....And that's all that matters…..I just wish….’

 

She tried so hard to smile at him and it nearly broke his heart...He wanted to reach out and embrace her....But he dared not because he feared that his brittle composure would shatter into smithereens...He forced out the only words he could muster.

   
 

‘I know, Mother.....And I'm so sorry.’

 

Mycroft’s voice was tired and rough and he hated himself for it as he looked back at his mother with watery eyes, tears flooded his vision unbidden and unwanted, he despised himself for showing emotion and he hated feeling so fucking vulnerable and weak...But in this instance he grudgingly made an exception even though it disgusted him...He was too exhausted from the violent waves of emotions crashing around in his mind to really care.

She was the only person in the world that truly understood him and he knew that she just didn't care about his lack of poise and manners...She just wanted him to be happy....It was all she had ever wanted....He was desperate for sleep now and the numerous cogs in his immense brain were beginning to buckle under the weight of highly uncomfotable lapses in his usual stiff composure; He felt so drained, like he was made entirely of lead, he needed to sleep so he could feel like a human being again...

 

Mrs Holmes heard the crack in her son’s voice, she saw the way his jaw tightnened and the way his lip quivered; she saw at once her little boy sitting before her and immediately changed the subject, she smiled softly at him and reached out to squeeze one of his hands.

 

‘It’s late dear, you’ve come a long way and you should get some rest...Would you like a cup of tea before you go to bed?’

 

Mycroft felt a fond smile creep onto his face and he nodded.

 

‘That would be lovely, thank you mother.’'

 

His mother patted his knee before standing up and gliding off into the kitchen, he let out a sigh and swiped the edges of his eyes with the back of one hand; he sat back in his chair and relished the feeling of the cold textured leather against his neck, he dozed for a few minutes without even realizing and woke with a snort as his mother patted his shoulder, she was back in her seat and held a wonderfully fragrant cup of earl grey in one hand.

 

‘Oh, you look exhausted darling, here, drink this, it'll help you drift off.’

 

Mycroft straightened up and gratefully accepted the cup of tea into his cold hands, he inhaled the comforting lemon and bergamot infusion and took a delicate sip, he couldn’t help the contented sigh that slipped from his lips, his mother’s answering smile was a little smug but he ignored it.

Mrs Holmes took a sip of her own tea and smiled at her son, he really did look tired, more so than usual and although she wanted to know more, she knew better than to press for more information.

They sipped their tea in pleasant silence for a few minutes before Mycroft downed the remains of his cup and stood up with a slight grimace, his back twinged unpleasantly and his neck was stiff, he couldn’t wait to climb into his bed and finally sleep.

 

‘Goodnight Mother.’

 

His mother smiled and nodded at him.

 

'Goodnight darling, sweet dreams.'

 

Mycroft rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to wash his cup before placing it back in the lovely old Victorian cupboard, he had to admit, even if just to himself, but he absolutely adored this house.

He had had the entire house and permiter decked out with state of the art defence systems somewhat....reluctantly as he knew that sooner or later, Sherlock would crack the encrypted password and gain full access.

He mulled this thought over in his mind as he retrieved his case from the hall and ascended the stairs to his room on the second floor.

It was a room at the end of the house in one of the corners and had wonderful views of the sea, he opened the door and hastily set his suitcase down on the large four poster bed, he pulled off his tie and his blazer and hung them on the back of the door.

He opened his case and pulled out his favorite lilac pajamas and his bag of toiletries, he sat down and pulled off his oxfords and his socks, hastily throwing them onto the plush sheepskin carpet without a care, he stood up and relished the feeling of the soft wool on his bare feet.

He padded to his ensuite bathroom and set his pajamas and toiletries down on the vanity, he wanted a shower but knowing that he might collapse from exhaustion and break his neck made him decide against it.

He cleaned his teeth, changed into his pajamas and exited the bathroom, he turned off the lamp and climbed into his bed, the linen sheets smelled of lavender and a sweeping feeling of calm settled in his stomach.

He teetered on the edge of sleep for a few minutes just taking in the faint sound of the ocean and the howling winds outside, he thought of his amazing night with Greg....

They had made love....It had been needy, harsh but somewhow still achingly romantic...

He remebered how they lay sated in his large four poster bed and stayed up until dawn talking nonsense....

He had never expected to get on with Greg so well, they both had dark senses of humour and a lot of unresolved issues....

But somehow they had just...Clicked...He didn't care if Sherlock teased him for his infatuation....Strangely...He wasn't embarrassed.

 

'Good lord, when did I become such a sap?'

 

He murmured under his breath with a giddy grin, he lay there with his eyes closed, surrounded by soft linens and the wild sounds from the ocean, he floated in this blissful bubble of calm for a few minutes longer until he at last drifted off into a deep, healing sleep.

 

   

 

Sherlock woke feeling much more refreshed than earlier, he glanced over at the clock at saw that it was a little after three o’clock in the afternoon, John was curled on his side with an arm across Sherlock’s chest, his warm breath tickled the back of his neck and made him shudder pleasantly, he shifted to face John and smiled as he took in his beautiful face; his eyelashes fluttered and his lips where slightly parted, his face was free of the shadow of the war and he looked absolutely perfect, Sherlock reached out a hand and gently ran his fingers through John's silvery hair; He let out a contented sigh and leaned into Sherlock’s touch; Sherlock smiled and leaned in to kiss John's forehead, John stirred from his slumber as he felt the warm press of a kiss against his skin, he opened his eyes and came face to face with Sherlock; his hair was ruffled and he was smiling lazily at him.

 

‘Hello John’

 

Sherlock’s voice was rough from sleep and entirely too sexy for him to process in his current state; John sighed and snuggled closer to him.

 

‘Hello, love.’

 

John yawned and reluctantly untangled himself from Sherlock.

 

‘As much as I’d like to stay here in bed with you…..And believe me, I really do…….We need to talk.’

 

Sherlock’s grin sagged and he cast his eyes down to the sheets, He knew exactly what John was referring to and he knew however much he would like to ignore it that it wouldn’t magically go away, John sat up and got to his feet, he stretched and walked over to look out of the window; a seemingly endless forest of pine met his eye and with the craggy slope of mountains jutting against the skyline.

  

‘You’re worried about my parents reactions aren’t you?’

 

John turned to face Sherlock and looked at him with an almost desperate look in his eyes.

 

‘Are they going to be angry with us?’

 

John's voice was quiet and his face was grave, Sherlock sighed and got out of bed, he stretched like a cat and walked over to John; he pulled him into a hug and rested his chin on John's shoulder.

 

‘My family has its fair share of skeletons in numerous closets……My parents have put up with three very weird children and I think that it would be beneath them to be judgmental.’

 

John snorted and smiled despite himself, he knew that Sherlock needed the same reassurance and he curled an arm around his waist.

 

‘I really like your parents, Sherlock, They’re kind and they adore you...Whatever happens….We are in this together...As a couple.'

 

‘Are we a couple?’

 

Sherlock’s voice was casual but John detected a note of pleading in his tone, a desperate need for confirmation, John pulled back to look Sherlock in the eye, his gaze was open and vulnerable and John just fell a little bit more in love with him, he smiled fondly and leaned in to give Sherlock a soft, lingering kiss, then he pulled back and lovingly stroked Sherlock’s cheek.

 

‘Yes Sherlock, We are a couple.'

 

Sherlock inhaled sharply and pulled back with a radiant smile, his heart was beating so fast that he felt faint; he felt happier than he ever thought possible and he surged forwards to kiss John, they had confessed their love for one another, but they had never talked about the nature of their relationship...Why bother?

He loved John more than he could ever hope to put into words, this wonderful, intelligent fearless man had come back to him again and again against all odds.

John had become his life, everything he did, he did with John, the person constantly on his mind was John, In conclusion……He couldn’t ever be happy without John.

 

'I love you, John Watson.......More than I can say.....'

 

John grinned triumphantly and pulled Sherlock in the direction of the bathroom; they giggled and clutched each other, whatever happened tonight they would endure it together, but first, they definitely needed to look more presentable; he had packed a few surprise items of clothing to tease Sherlock with and he looked forward to rendering him temporarily speechless.

He desperately wanted to fuck Sherlock in that ridiculous four poster bed but he knew he was walking on eggshells with the uncertainty of what would happen if Sherlock's parents found out about their now confirmed relationship, maybe they could find somewhere to be alone together...Surely Sherlock had a lair somewhere.....Because come on, it was Sherlock for Christ's sake!

He had mixed emotions about their time here in Scotland but he was certain that their brief holiday would certainly be eventful, he knew that sooner or later they would be called back to London to deal with the horrific case that the yard was investigating and he was worried that Sherlock wouldn’t be able to resist the chase, he was now 100% committed to a life with Sherlock Holmes and he hadn't felt so happy yet so gut-wrenchingly terrified since the birth of his daughter.

 

Sherlock and John shrugged out of their clothes in comfortable silence, Sherlock wondered over to the wall to turn on the ridiculously fancy shower, hot water cascaded from the golden shower head and began to fill the room with steam, John stood by the door fiddling with the dog tags around his neck; he decided before leaving London to wear them for good luck because he certainly needed it, Sherlock wondered over to him and John tried his best not to stare at his overall nakedness; he looked up at him and smiled softly.

 

‘Right, we can’t hide in your attic forever and as much as I am enjoying seeing you naked and I really, really am we….We shouldn’t…..’

 

Sherlock cut short John's babbling with a searing kiss, John moaned and pulled back.

   

‘This is….This is exactly what I was talking about Sherlo…’

 

Sherlock shut him up with another kiss and grinned wolfishly at him.

 

‘Stop doing that! Ah!’

 

Sherlock palmed John's semi-hard cock, John let out a gasp.

 

‘You’re cheating.’

 

Sherlock ignored him and squeezed the base of his cock, his abdomen tightened and he grit his teeth.

 

‘You’re definitely bloody cheating…Ohh that’s not fair.’

  

Sherlock chuckled and let go of John's cock, he turned and walked casually under the stream of hot water, his dark hair was drenched and hung in inky tendrils against his pale skin; the rivulets of water beaded on his face as he stared at John with ‘come hither’ eyes, John swallowed hard and willed his heart to stop racing; he wanted nothing more than to fuck Sherlock here in this bathroom…..But he wanted their first time in Scotland to be passionate and uninturrupted, away from prying eyes and comptletely unrestrained; to end with both of them completely sated...He pictured something far better than shower sex; even though at this moment shower sex seemed like a very, very good thing.

 

‘John?’

 

John realised that for once, he was the one staring into space like an absolute weirdo and it was Sherlock who was looking slightly bewildered.

 

‘I’m sorry, I’m being stupid, it’s just….We haven’t slept together since we left London and I would like to…….’

 

Sherlock’s smile completely disarmed John for a few seconds; he was expecting something, but not a genuine smile, it made his whole face light up and it was a welcome change from his usual forced ones that sometimes looked more like a grimace of pain than a smile.

 

‘Sentiment is still sometimes difficult for me to understand John, but am I right in thinking that you would prefer a more appropriate setting for our sexual encounters?’

  

John broke into hastily stifled giggles.

 

‘Sexual encounters? You make it sound so Romantic.’

 

Sherlock snorted and focused all his mind power on controlling his bothersome anatomy.

 

‘Well if we aren’t going to have sex, we’d better use this room for its intended purpose; you’re always going on about wasting water.’

 

John rolled his eyes and picked up a bottle of expensive looking shower gel, he smiled at Sherlock coyly.

 

‘We’ve been together for all of a month, give or take and we’re already bickering like an old married couple.’

  

Sherlock didn’t miss a beat.

 

‘And what’s wrong with that?’

 

And for that, John had no answer, the mood in the room was charged with half-formed thoughts and unspoken words, something had suddenly changed between them in a big way and neither of them could think of anything to say.

 

‘We should probably shower and get dressed before anyone gets suspicious.’

 

They showered in pleasant silence and tried their hardest not to eye each other's naked bodies; sexual tension simmered in the space between them but they were trying to ignore it, they exited the bathroom in large fluffy towels and John began to rummage through his suitcase for a fresh set of clothes, he turned to Sherlock and snorted as he watched him towelling his dark wet hair, Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked over to the large mahogany closet opposite the bed, he pulled it open and pulled out a garment bag, John hummed in approval as sherlock unzipped the bag and pulled out a crisp white shirt, a tailored light grey waistcoat, black slacks and a black blazer lined with dark purple silk.

John had given great thought to his packing before he left for Scotland; he knew that Sherlock had expensive taste in clothes and the contents of his closet seemed to pale in comparison, he packed a few jumpers out of sheer habit and began rifling though his clothes for something a little bit smarter, he quickly passed over the suit he had worn to his wedding and stopped when his fingertips came into contact with a dark blue linen shirt, he took it from its hanger and turned it over in his hands, he sat it to one side with a hum of approval and continued his search.

After about half an hour of comparing clothes he had finally gotten together a set of his nicest clothes, some more dark button up shirts, a few pairs of tastefully faded jeans, some silk waistcoats that he'd never had to confidence to try on and several pairs of silk boxers in different colours, John opted for a dark green shirt and one of the black waistcoats; he pulled on a fresh pair of purple boxers and matching socks; the charcoal grey jeans felt snug against his legs, he turned his head to Sherlock and found that he was admiring him with a small smile.

 

Bloody hell, he looked good enough to eat...The clothes clung to Sherlock's frame like a second skin and John admired the pale skin of Sherlock's exposed chest as he finished buttoning his shirt, John smiled at Sherlock who smiled back wryly.

 

'Well then, once more unto the breach.'

 

John rolled his eyes and shoved Sherlock lightly.

 

‘Oh don’t be so bloody sceptical and BE NICE.’

 

‘I am nice.’

 

‘Yeah, to me...Most of the time but thats because you love me; but you also know that I could break every bone in your body whilst naming them.’

 

Sherlock scowled at John who was grinning smugly at him and clearly enjoying himself. He had the know it all tone of the Caterpillar in Wonderland.

 

'I'm assuming that you want me to be nice to my brother too.'

 

John rolled his eyes and sighed in mock exasparation.

  

'Just be nice to everyone, come on, it wont hurt.'

   

'Not physically.'

 

Muttered Sherlock darkly, he sighed deeply and gathered his self-control, Sherlock and John descended the stairs to the kitchen with their empty cups and saucers; they found Mycroft sat at the kitchen table looking gravely at his laptop screen; he looked up at the sound of their footsteps and raised an eyebrow at them.

 

 'Ah, I see you've finally decided to grant me an audience little brother.....Good afternoon John.'

 

Sherlock shot him a look of irritation and had to fight very hard to keep his mouth firmly shut; John rolled his eyes and nodded awkwardly at Mycroft, hoping that he wasn't blushing, there was a long and highly uncomfortable silcence before Mycroft at last broke it in an almost casual manner.

 

‘Scotland Yard have managed to identify two of the bodies from the hospital.’

 

Sherlock frowned and set his cup and saucer down next to the sink, he joined Mycroft at the table; John quickly did the same and took a seat opposite Sherlock.

   

‘Who are they?’

 

Mycroft turned his laptop to face them both and waited for a reaction.

 

'Jacob Hughes and Charlotte Jones.' 

 

The screen showed a man and a woman, white, late twenties to early thirties, tall, slim and conventionally attractive by modern tastes...or...By the tastes of certain social media sites, other than the builds of the victims, there seemed to be no other connection...To the untrained eye that is.

The woman had blue eyes and wore contact lenses, she had peroxide blonde hair but her nartural brown hair was showing through at the roots, She appeared to be a fairly high maintenece woman as she also had very good skin, veneers and enhanced breasts and she would have had her roots done regularly, most likey at a salon given the even colour of her hair.

Hmmm now, the man, what about him? Sherlock looked over the photos again and furrowed his brow in concentration, the man had mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, he had undergone rhinoplasty, brow lift, botox and used a high end sun bed, he also had veneers and looked cold and haughty, self assured by his good looks.

Well, look where they had got him in the end...He'd spent his life trying to look beautiful but ulitmately he'd ended up ravaged, marred by the scalpel blade and twisted into something that was terrible to look at....

The Irony was intentional and in an awful way it was almost funny, as only gallows humour could be, and luckily he had dark humour in spades, it went with the territory of his work, but this case was quite a bit gorier that anything he'd seen in a long time; it was so cold, neat and clinical, sinisterly brutal and certainly creative....

God, he couldn't help but give the sick bastard a begrudging sliver of morbid approval, he had seen first hand what this man could do and he still saw those bodies etched into his retinas...If he wasn't able to mask his contempt and disgust with dry humour and detatchment then he would probably go insane...He winced at the memories of their desecrated bodies strung up like puppets and fought hard to suppress a shudder.

 

‘They've both undergone a variety of cosmetic enhancements, high maintenence people...I'll need a complete dossier made of both victims before I can confirm any other suspicions.’

 

John let out a hum of agreement.

  

‘From what Sherlock told me, this guy is a professional, the way he removed their limbs and heads….It’s not something an amateur would be able to do.’

 

John sighed and fixed Sherlock with a look.

  

‘Sherlock, I know what you’re going to say but I’m a doctor and I want to see the crime sc…’

 

‘No....Not yet.’

 

Sherlock’s tone was firm yet calm, John rolled his eyes and fixed Sherlock with his sternest authoritarian look.

 

‘I’m a grown man, Sherlock, I was a soldier and I’ve seen enough gore and death to last a lifetime, I think I've earned the right to make my own bloody decisions.’

 

Mycroft sighed and arched and eyebrow at his younger brother.

 

‘John has a point, Sherlock.’

 

Sherlock shot his brother a warming look and turned to face John.

 

‘We’ll talk about this later John, in private.’

 

Sherlock’s mild tone had given way to one that brokered no argument, John rolled his eyes but shrugged his shoulders in agreement, Sherlock scowled down at the table for a moment and then looked back up at his brother.

 

'What about the heads, has anyone found them yet?’

 

Mycroft turned his laptop back around with a sigh and closed the sparse file.

 

‘At present, the whereabouts of the heads are unknown.’

 

John couldn’t believe they were discussing missing heads and disturbing crime scene photos at the table he’d sat at with Sherlock’s mother only this morning.

 

'There's something else.'

 

Cut in Mycroft with an almost sickened look on his face.

 

'Although all the heads are missing....along with the internal organs....The female victims' euteruses have been surgically removed...Almost like...'

 

'The Jack the Ripper victim, Mary Ann Nichols.

 

Said John almost reflexively; there was a long pause, Sherlock shot him an impressed look with his eyes and Mycroft nodded at him approvingly, John felt oddly pleased with himself, even under the circumstances and was eager to get a word in edgewise before the two brothers enevitably started bickering.

 

'Mycroft, he spoke to us and he specifically said not to go after him...This guy is a lone wolf and he's utterly merciless.'

 

The look Mycroft shot John had none of its usual haughty arrogance.

  

‘I am well aware of your conversation with this man, John, I saw the unpleasant crime scene photos myself and I know what he’s capable of….’

 

Sherlock’s heart constricted in his chest and he warred with his emotions, he was like a bloodhound baying for a scent and yet he couldn’t bring himself to go against John's wishes, not when he had finally found happiness, there was a tense silence as he fixed his eyes on John and fought the urge to reach over the table and squeeze his hand, the silence was broken by the sound of the front door opening and the cheery voices of Sherlock’s parents. 

 

‘Oh, good, you haven’t done any experiments Sherlock.’

 

Said Mrs Holmes cheerily as she came into the kitchen with Rosie in her arms, John internally breathed a sigh of relief and jumped up from his chair and hurried over to greet his daughter, Mycroft slammed his laptop shut and looked wearily at his mother, she smiled as she handed Rosie over to John and then walked over to the cupboard and pulled out two cups she turned to the kettle and called cheerily over her shoulder.

 

'Mycroft, be a dear and go give your father a hand with the shopping while I make some tea.’

 

Mycroft let out a sigh and got to his feet, leaving Sherlock sitting at the table alone, he felt instantly out of place as he digested the new data from the photos and he almost jumped when Mrs Holmes laid a hand on his shoulder; he looked up at her and tried to do a convincing smile, thankfully she seemed satisfied, he looked over at John who was fussing over Rosie, speaking softly to her as he took off her coat, he felt himself smile as she yawned widely and cooed at John; the sight made his heart melt.

 

Mycroft came back into the room with several bags of shopping, followed by Mr Holmes who threw his car keys into a bowl next to the door and hurried over to help put away the groceries, John set Rosie down in her high chair and busied himself by making up her bottle of formula, she was tired and a little bit grumpy after her daytrip and John knew that it was best to put her down for a long nap.

He poured the warmed formula into the bottle and casually glanced at Sherlock, he had his phone out and he was texting at lightning speed, his brow was furrowed and John knew that he was probably trying to dig up more evidence for the case, John pushed the case into a dark corner of his mind to be assessed later; he had to go into parent mode.

He picked up Rosie and urged her to lie against his shoulder; she didn’t protest and flopped sleepily against his neck, her wispy blonde hair tickled his cheek and he let out a soft sound of affection, he picked up the bottle in his free hand and turned to Sherlock.

 

‘I’ll be back in a mo, Rosie’s likely to verbally protest if I don’t feed her and put her to bed.’

 

The corner of Sherlock’s mouth twitched and Mrs Holmes smiled widely at him.

   

‘She behaved beautifully John, but I think she's missed her daddy.’

 

John huffed out a laugh and smiled at her.

 

‘Thank you for looking after her Vi, I really appreciate it.’

 

Sherlock made a spluttering sound and Mycroft dropped a packet of biscuits he was about to put in the cupboard.

 

 

‘VI?!?!'

 

John just snorted at the increduclous looks on the two brother's faces and hurried out of the room with Rosie, grinning madly and giggling all the way up to the attic, he pushed open to the door of Rosie’s makeshift nursery, she was grumbling now and he settled himself in the rocking chair to feed his increasingly impatient daughter, she greedily gulped down the formula and John realised that she would start getting bigger soon as she finished her bottle with a contented sigh before yawning widely.

He felt a warm smile spead across his lips as he stood up and deposited her on the changing table while he went to fetch a fresh sleepsuit, some wet wipes and a new nappy, he cooed at her gently as he cleaned and changed her, thankfully without any mishaps; she was too worn out to wriggle or protest much and allowed him to dress her and carry her to the Moses basket, John set his little girl down in the Moses basket and smiled widely at her as she let out a delicate yawn and snuggled into the blankets; He pulled out his phone and took a photo of the precious moment.

 

God.

  

He loved her so much.

 

 

He tiptoed out of the room still grinning like an idiot he walked back into the kitchen to find Mrs Holmes cleaning and gutting an enormous Salmon with impeccable skill and speed, Mr Holmes smiled benignly at him and went back to his prep work; he juiced a lemom and went back to peeling some parsnips

Sherlock was still sitting where John had left him, he looked tense and awkward as usual and his was texting at lightning speed; Mycroft was sat at the other end of the table and was also texting, not quite as hurriedly as his brother but with the same urgency, Mrs Holmes turned from the counter and smiled at him as John took a seat opposite Sherlock.

                        

‘There’s no way you can visit Scotland without trying some of the local delicacies.'

 

She talked easily and almost casually as she peeled the shiny grey skin from the fish and began,

 

'Mr Macdougal from the farm down the road caught this Salmon this morning, We're making baked salmon with pasnip purée and  a fresh samphire salad.'

 

She paused for a second and frowned.

 

'I had hoped we could eat outside but there’s an enormous raincloud heading this way so we’ll just have to make do in here.’

 

 John felt the urge to roll his eyes, Mrs Holmes had a flair for dramatics that she had most definitely passed on to her children, her house was large and imposing but still maintained an air of coziness and charm, the kitchen was warm and inviting and he didn’t mind at all that they would eat in here he hadn’t eaten freshly caught fish in a long time since he usually only had time for hurried dinners or takeaways.

He was touched by the amount of thought Mr and Mrs Homes had put into their evening meal; It sounded like a dish from a high end restruant and John had the impression that Mrs Holmes was more than meets the eye, but he wasn't going to deny it to himself that he was also in a way, dreading the entire event; He’d heard about dinners with the Holmes’s once or twice and he knew from experience that Sherlock and Mycroft couldn’t help bickering with each other for longer than five minutes.

 

‘That sounds absolutely delicious Vi and don’t be silly, your kitchen is lovely.’

 

Mrs Holmes smiled warmly at him and walked over to pat his shoulder.

 

‘You’re too kind John, I must say that I am very fond of this house; Carl and I bought it when Mycroft was about three years old….Ohh, he was so cute.’

 

Sherlock let out a snort and carried on texting and at the other end of the table, Mycroft let out a small groan of embarrassment and glared at his brother with a look of deepest loathing, John fought very, very hard to keep a smirk off his face and nudged Sherlock’s foot with his own, he glanced up from his phone and John could see the mirth building in his beautiful eyes, John turned to look at Vi with a charming smile and fought to keep his own amusement in check before he seriously embarrassed himself.

 

‘It’s a very beautiful house, I really love the Victorian décor, you have very good taste, would you mind if Sherlock and I took a walk around the garden? There’s some new information on the case we’re working and I’m dying to stretch my legs.’

 

Mrs Holmes beamed at his compliments, even if John was laying them on with a trowel in order to escape from the house with Sherlock.

 

‘Oh, of course, Sherlock knows his way around the grounds like the back of his hand, although, I would wrap up and take an umbrella with you, that raincloud really does look ominous, Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half.’

  

Sherlock was barely listening to his mother’s words and he subtly looked back at John, he was trying so hard to keep a smirk from creeping onto his face at the sight of his brother’s reddening cheeks that it was becoming painful; Oh yes, he knew his way around the gardens and the forests….and all of his secret places....

Mycroft was dying of embarrassment at his mother’s words and Sherlock’s snort didn’t help the situation at all, he threw a contemptuous glare at his brother and a look of childish irritation at his mother.

 

‘Well if you two are going to bunk off then I will retire to my study, One of us has to do some actual work.’

 

He rose from his chair and stalked out of the kitchen without a backwards glance, as he knew that Sherlock was probably smirking at him like the little bastard he was.

Sherlock rose from his chair at the same time as John and they both promised to return when dinner was ready, they headed out into the hallway and slipped on their coats without a word, Sherlock grabbed a large black umbrella from an ornate bronze stand and they hurried out of the door into the cool air, when they stepped out of the house the light of the day was slowly fading, the sky was a stormy blue and the silver-grey rainclouds were gathering overhead with the help of a sharp breeze.

They walked down the path to the gate, passed through it silently and turned down a rugged shore track; they waited until they were a good distance from the house before they linked hands, looked at each other and then broke into fits of uncontrollable laughter, John smiled up at Sherlock with a mischievous grin and reached up to straighten out his shirt collar.

 

‘I’m not sure who this little break is more uncomfortable for, us or your poor sod of a brother.'

 

Sherlock snorted and smiled down at John, matching his own cheeky grin, he gently curled an arm around John and eyed him playfully.

 

‘I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure Mycroft is crushed under the weight of his embarrassments, he’s due his comeuppance.’

 

John rolled his eyes and gently pushed a lock of hair off of his face, he looked so relaxed and so much healthier than he had done in weeks, John could not help think that this visit to his family, however uncomfortable, might be the respite that Sherlock needed to gather his thoughts.

 

‘You're thinking incredibly loudly John; do tell me what’s on that intriguing mind of yours.’

 

John blinked and then smiled widely at Sherlock; he untangled himself from their collective embrace and looked about with a happy grin on his face.

 

‘You know as well as I do that we can’t stay here forever, sooner or later we’re going to get a call from Lestrade about something horrible...But whilst we’re here, we had better make the most of it.’

 

He cocked his head to one side and fixed Sherlock with a grim smile.

 

'How long do you think we have here before Lestrade sends out a squad to forcibly escort us back to Baker Street?’

 

Sherlock looked thoughtful for half a second and then grinned wickedly at John.

 

‘Well…..They’d have to find us first.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are much appreciated. :)


	27. Conversational Therapy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Greg speak on the phone and Greg takes a well earned sick day to visit a traumatized co-worker and an eccentric therapist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys, I'm sorry It's been a while but I've been suffering from Chronic hayfever for a while now and I've been a wheezing mess.
> 
> I RESENT BEING INCAPACITATED BY VEGETATION.
> 
> (I reckon that if Sherlock suffered from hayfever, he would 100% say something like this)
> 
>  

 

 

 

Mycroft closed the door to his study with a satisfying slam, he knew that it was childish but he didn’t much care, he walked over to the large window and stared out at the flat, iron grey horizon, the sea was rough and crashed against the distant shoreline with a soft and far off sound, It soothed his weary mind for a few minutes as he contemplated what he was about to do.

  
He hadn’t spoken to Greg since he’d left his house the previous day, He’d shared friendly text messages with him but the thought of hearing his lovely voice again made him feel nervous and slightly giddy.

  
He crossed to his drinks cabinet and pulled out a fancy bottle of Whiskey; it was a Ben Nevis single malt scotch, matured for 18 years and it was hideously expensive, he hurriedly poured himself a generous measure into a crystal cut glass and took a long sip of it, He marveled at the subtle notes of honey, caramel, cinnamon and lilac. It was dangerously drinkable and he needed to be careful.

He pulled out his phone with a shaky hand and dialed Greg’s number, it rang for a moment and on the fifth ring Greg’s voice was filling his ears.

 

‘I was wondering when you were going to call, enjoying your holiday?.’

 

Mycroft smiled at the sound of the other man's voice and he ignored his slightly teasing tone.

 

‘Not patricularly, I see that you haven’t made any comments on Sherlock's decision to abandon Baker Street, John seems to think it'll do us all some good.'

 

'The three of you have been through quite a lot of disturbing shit recently, not at all helped by this new shitstorm...I have no qualms with you taking some time away to decompress.'

 

Mycroft smiled softly and took another sip of his drink, how wonderfully uncomplicated this man was when it came to looking out for people; His complete understanding of the current situation was a little disarming.

 

‘Where are you now? I must admit that I dislike being out of the loop.’

 

There was a long pause before Greg finally answered his question.

 

'I’m on my way to visit Sally Donavan, I figured she could use some company.’

 

Greg didn’t bother explaining who Sally was as he knew that Mycroft probably knew about everyone working for the yard.

 

‘Sally was the one who went in with Sherlock, when I got there she had already passed out from shock…You should have seen the first officers on the scene...They were falling apart...’

 

‘I understand that Sherlock carried Miss Donavan out to an ambulance and made sure she was looked after...I’m proud of him for that.’

 

‘You should be, they have a complicated history.’

 

Mycroft smiled wryly and took a larger sip of his drink.

 

‘Yes, I’ve been aware of it for some time now, and that's why I’m proud of him.'

 

Mycroft paused to take another much needed sip of his drink.

 

'Sherlock can be a petulant, selfish child at best and downright vindictive at worst…..He made a choice to be decent and selfless and that can only be a good thing.’

 

Greg let out a hum of agreement as the taxi pulled up to the pavement outside Highgate hospital.

 

‘Listen Mycroft, I’d love to have a proper conversation with you but I’m afraid this can’t wait, I promise I’ll call you tomorrow.'

 

Mycroft smiled warmly at the fact he would speak to Greg again very soon, but was a little dissapointed that their conversation was so breif.

 

‘I understand Greg, Sergeant Donavan is an important member of your team and I’m sure she would appreciate your company after what she’s been through.’

 

Greg sighed into the phone as he paid the cabbie and stepped out into the crisp evening air, he pulled out his cigarettes and immediately sparked one up.

 

‘I don’t even know where to start with this case Mycroft, but I really need Sally’s input on it, I saw exactly what she saw and I’m barely keeping it together….Sally’s strong…Feisty and not afraid to call people out on their bullshit…I know that she can overcome this, I just know it.’

 

Mycroft smiled as Greg’s description of Sergeant Donavan reminded him of his brother.

 

‘Then I won’t keep you, Go do what needs to be done and keep me informed if anything comes up, no matter how trivial you think it is.’

 

He heard Greg chuckle darkly and did his best to ignore the way the sound made his stomach flip like he was a lovesick teenager….This really wasn't the time nor the place for such hormonal drivel so he forced down his feelings with a long sip of his drink to fill the slightly awkward silence.

 

'Don’t worry, Sherlock has been texting me nonstop ever since you set off for Scotland, If anything happens you’ll be the first to know, I’ll speak to you later yeah?’

 

'Yes, of course, I look forward to it…..please send Miss Donavan my regards, I feel for her, I really do...It might not mean much coming from a cynical old sod like me, but I’ve seen the crime scene photos myself and can’t begin to even imagine what she must have felt when she saw it all firsthand.'

 

Greg’s stomach twisted at the memory of the operating theatre and took a deep calming drag from his cigarette; he blew it out and watched the smoke fly away on the breeze.

'I'm sure your concern will shock her out of her current state.....Speak to you later Mycroft.’

 

Mycroft snorted and then there was a click as he hung up, Greg flicked away his cigarette and walked into the building, it was very sleek and modern looking and didn’t even smell of over boiled cabbage the way other hospitals usually did; there was a bubbly looking receptionist at the desk and he walked over to her on autopilot.

‘Good evening, my name is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, I’m with Scotland Yard, I’m here to visit a colleague of mine, her name is Sally Donavan.’

 

The woman’s cheery expression disappeared; suddenly she frowned for a second before looking up at him.

 

‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to need to see some ID, the press have been trying to sneak in here to interview this patient since she came in, I hope you aren’t offended.’

 

Greg raised an eyebrow before shrugging.

 

‘No, of course I'm not. I know that the press are little more than Vultures, hang on a mo.’

 

He reached into his coat and handed over his badge and ID to her, she took the proffered items and for a full tense 30 seconds she examined them intensely before looking satisfied and handing them back to him.

 

'If you take a seat in the waiting room down the hall, I’ll send someone down to escort you to her room.’

 

Greg smiled blandly at her before thanking her and heading off toward the waiting room, he sat down heavily in one of the chairs and within two minutes he was shifting around uncomfortably in his seat, he looked around the room with barely masked anxiety, it’d taken a lot of courage to come here and even now his fight of flight reflexes were threatening to break out.

  
Sally’s parents had had her moved from Barts to a private Bupa hospital and even the pale blue walls and large fish tank complete with soothingly slow moving tropical fish was not enough to calm his anxiety considering the last time he was in a hospital he’d uncovered an actual fucking murder lair...But he had to suck it up, he owed Sally this much.

  
Sally Donavan had marched right into that abandoned hospital with a look of determination on her face, even though she was clearly suffering, Sherlock had had the good grace to carry her unconscious form all the way to the ambulance and according to those already on the scene he’d expressed some level of genuine concern for her even though Sherlock himself was described as 'White as a fucking sheet.’

  
Greg gritted his teeth and stood up to get a cup of water from the water cooler across the room, he really, really wanted another cigarette but that would have to wait.

 

‘Detective Lestrade?’

 

Greg was just taking a sip from his cup as a woman’s voice pierced the muted silence. He started and turned around so quickly that he managed to spill most of the water all over his shirt.

 A woman dressed in crisp blue scrubs was looking at him with an enquiring expression on her face; she was around 50 years old, with pale skin and silver hair that was pulled back in a neat bun, her sharp green eyes were kind but held barely veiled exhaustion and weariness.

 

‘Yes, that’s me, I’m uh, here to see my colleague Sally.’

 

Greg instantly felt stupid; this woman knew full well why he was here as she was the one taking him to see Sally in the first place, the woman made no comment on his blunder and instead walked forward to stand in front of him.

 

‘My name is Dr Jane Langtree; I’ve been overseeing Miss Donavan’s care since she was brought in.’

 

She held out her hand, Greg shook it with a polite smile, Doctor Langtree was no nonsense and straight to the point, he appreciated her immensely for that small mercy.

 

'If you’ll follow me I’ll fill you in on her current condition on the way.’

 

Greg nodded and followed her out of the waiting room and down a long, winding corridor; he had to try his hardest to push any horrible flashbacks out of his head as Dr Langtree started speaking.

 

'Sally is obviously very distressed by what she witnessed at the scene and that’s entirely understandable, physically she’s a perfectly healthy woman but mentally….'

 

'She’s bloody traumatized.’

 

Dr Langtree sighed and eyed him with a grim and slightly sad expression.

 

‘Well, if we’re going to speak plainly, then yes, Sally is suffering from textbook PTSD and she needs gentle handling.’

 

Greg’s stomach tensed uncomfortably and glared at the linoleum floor like it was responsible for all of his problems.

 

‘Unfortunately, she had to be sedated when she woke up because she tore out her IV and punched a nurse.’

 

Greg honestly had to suppress a snort at this piece of information, despite all Sally had been through she had still retained her moxie, It reminded him of the poor EMT he’d punched in the back of the ambulance and fought a bizarre urge to laugh, the urge abruptly ceased when they entered Sally’s private room.

  
Sally was lying in a hospital bed, she was gazing out of the window with a hollow, dead look in her eyes; her skin looked clammy and there were dark circles under her eyes, her black hair was limp and greasy and she looked positively sick.

 

'Hey, Sally.'

 

Her head snapped away from the window at the sound of his voice and Greg understood, he was jumpy as fuck too and he felt a twinge of empathy with Sally as he looked into her wild brown eyes; he watched as she flicked her eyes over to Dr Langtree and her face softened slightly.

 

'Hey Greg.'

 

Dr Langtree wondered over to Sally’s bed and took a note of her vital signs, Sally smiled wearily at her and allowed her to check her pulse and temperature without complaint, Dr Langtree turned back to Greg and gave him a small smile, she changed Sally’s IV bag and dutifully noted everything onto the chart attached to Sally’s bed.

 

I'll leave you to talk.'

 

Dr Langtree laid a hand on Sally’s shoulder and gave her a kind smile.

 

'Just press the call button if you need anything Sally.'

 

Sally managed another weak smile in the Doctor's direction as she shifted to sit up in her bed.

 

'Will do, Thanks Doc.'

 

Greg nodded at Doctor Langtree as she gave Sally one more reassuring glance and exited the room, leaving the two of them alone.

 

Greg sat down in the chair next to Sally’s bed and eyed her with concern, he watched as she propped herself up and reached for a glass of water, her hands trembled so much that she spilt some of the water down herself.

She swore and set the cup down, glaring at it like it had insulted her, and Greg debated on whether he should offer to hold the cup for her while she drank, but he knew Sally, she would be less than pleased and would probably garrotte him with one of the many wires attached to her, he racked his brains and finally came up with a simple solution.

 

‘Sit tight Sally, I’ll be back in a mo.’

 

She didn’t reply but shrugged her shoulders so he took that as a sign he was okay to leave, he got to his feet and stepped out onto the long white corridor and he wondered down it until he reached the elevator.

When it arrived, he stepped in and pushed the button for the first floor, it opened onto the cafeteria and he quickly located the thing he was looking for.

He quickly headed back to Sally’s room, he quietly closed the door and took his seat again, Sally looked at him questioningly and without saying a word, he triumphantly held out a pink bendy straw.

He watched Sally’s expression shift from confusion to understanding and was rewarded with a snort and a wry smile, that small smile gave him a surge of reassurance that Sally’s spark hadn’t been entirely extinguished

He watched as she picked the cup up with more control than before, she sipped from the straw and eyed him with an expression of slight unease.

 

‘Look, I know you don’t want to talk about what happened and believe me, I don’t either, If I could erase what I saw I would, but I can’t.'

'We’re way out of our depth here and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone much higher up took over the case all together…'

'So, I’m not going to talk about it...The only thing that matters right now is you getting better.’

 

Sally suddenly became slightly more relaxed, she still couldn’t really wrap her head around the awful things she’d seen in that hospital; she had absolutely no desire to be anywhere near the man who committed the murders.

She was scared, scratch that, fucking terrified...But this was her Job, this is why she joined the force in the fucking first place...

Greg could understand why Sally wasn’t all that keen on reliving that awful scene in the hospital, he wasn’t either, but he had to do something…anything, he also thought about Phil…God, poor Phil....His once eager team had been reduced to trembling wrecks.

  
Sally took a calming sip of water and then a deep breath to steady herself, she didn’t really know where to begin but only one thing came to mind to say.

 

‘What’s the situation with the kids who broke in?’

 

Truthfully, she almost didn’t want to know, because if she, an adult, was having a hard time dealing with this then she couldn’t even imagine how those kids must feel...

She bit her lip and fiddled with the alarmingly pink straw to try and calm herself.

  
Greg winced and looked at the floor for a second before meeting Sally’s eyes, god those poor kids, young, stupid teenagers, doing incredibly normal, stupid teenage things like tresspassing in old buldings to drink and do drugs/have sex...

Usually, it would be a run of the mill routine, go in, arrest the kids, give them a lecture down at the police station, check for any priors, contact their parents...blah blah blah...

The routine didn’t usually end with four 16-17-year-old kids suffering from severe PTSD.

 

‘Too early to tell, but their parents are with them at the hospital, they’ve seen some pretty horrible shit and it’ll just take time...It’ll take time for all of us.’

 

Sally sighed and sunk back into her pillows, she was pleased that her sheets didn’t smell of harsh chemicals, they were soft and smelled of lavander.

She felt terrible for passing out like that on the job, she was so angry with herself and right now anger was a hell of a lot better than self-pity.

 

‘How’d I even get here? I don’t really remember all that much after seeing....what I saw, In fact, I’ve only started to feel slightly more like myself since this morning, I can’t believe I fainted like a fucking damsel!!’

 

‘Sherlock carried you to the ambulance; apparently, he was pretty shaken up himself.’

 

Sally’s mouth fell open in shock, she put down her water and then promptly buried her face in her hands.

 

‘Sherlock...Sherlock Holmes carried me to an ambulance? Oh, Jesus Christ Greg...I am never going to live this down’

 

Greg chuckled and fixed her with a wry smile.

 

‘Well...If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t just faint when I got out of there...I almost got run over by a police car and cried in John Watson’s arms.’

 

Sally gaped at him for a few seconds before she straightened up and fixed him with a serious look.

 

‘I assaulted a nurse! That is the exact opposite of my job!!'

 

Greg sat back in his chair and couldn't help grinning as he replied.

 

‘Yeah, well, I dont condone the punching of random citizens either but I also freaked out in the back of an abulance and ended up breaking a paramedic's nose...Thankfully, he hasn't pressed charges, he's a nice chap.'

 

Sally stared at him for a full ten seconds before the corner of her mouth quivered, Greg was worried that she was going to cry, but then she snorted and burst out laughing, he swiftly followed suit and was gladdened by the sound of her laughter.

It was a few minutes before they managed to regain their composure, their sides hurt and their eyes were wet but they both felt significantly better afterwards, Greg was pleased to see Sally looking a little more relaxed and smiled when she failed to stifle a yawn.

 

I’d best be off Sally, I’m pretty done in myself and I’m sure tomorrow is going to be just as hectic as today, I’ll come by tomorrow if I get a chance.'

 

Sally smiled weakly and sipped her water to soothe her dry throat, she was exhausted and she could feel a headache starting behind her eyes.

 

‘Thanks for coming to see me, keep me updated on anything that happens, just because I’m in hospital doesn’t mean I’m not a police officer.’

 

Greg felt heartened by Sally’s tone of voice and felt a weird urge to put his hand on her shoulder, thankfully he ignored the urge and substituted it with a cheeky grin.

 

‘Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten, You’d best rest up so you cant get back to work, Sergeant Donovan.’

 

Sally grinned back and lifted her hand to her temple in a salute.

 

‘Yes, sir.’

 

Greg snorted and got up with only minor discomfort, he stretched with one last grin at Sally he remembered what Mycroft has said earlier.

 

'Oh, and by the way, Mycroft Holmes sends his regards.'

 

Sally's mouth fell open again and she looked utterly bewildered.

 

'I...Don't even know what to say to that.'

 

They both broke into giggles again and after a minute of recovering, Greg bid sally farewell and left the room, he made his way out of the claustrophobic interior of the Hospital and breathed a sigh of releif as he exited the building.

He gulped in the cold evening air and let out a grateful sigh, he hastily sparked up a cigarette and smoked in greedily, relishing the burn in his lungs, he took a short walk to stretch out his legs and managed to hail a passing cab, once he was comfortably seated in the cab he sank back into the leather seat and headed back to his flat.

He was pretty hungry and honestly couldn’t remember the last time he ate something, after a fruitless search of both his cupboards and fridge, he decided that he simply couldn’t be arsed and ordered Chinese takeout.

He had taken a sick day in order to visit Sally and also to check in with his new Therapist, He was a pleasant, yet slightly eccentric man named Freddie Callaghan.

Freddie was a middle-aged Irishman with a shock of thick, mane-like red hair flecked with streaks of silver and he had very pale skin that was dusted with an alarming ammount of freckles.

He had forest green eyes wore a pair of thin, horn-rimmed glasses and this was all topped off with THE most magnificent sea captain beard Greg had ever seen.

Freddie was very well dressed, wearing a crisp white shirt, a moss green waistcoat and black tailored slacks; he was well educated in psychology but he lacked the Freudian shtick that Greg had been dreading.

Greg thought over his first session with Freddie whilst he waited for his takeaway to arrive, he flopped down on his sofa and closed his weary eyes.

Freddie's office was in his own home, a sleek, Victorian town-house situated in the wealthy Kensington borough, it was a refreshing change from the clinical settings he was used to.

Freddie greeted him jovially at the door with a roguish grin and held out his hand.

 

'Good evening Greg, come in! come in! I'm Dr Callaghan but please, call me Freddie.'

 

Greg shook Freddie's proffered hand with a soft smile and followed him over the threshold.

'Good Evening Freddie, it's nice to meet you.'

 

Greg hung up his coat and gazed around in wonder as Freddie lead him through his beautifully maintained house, the floors were made from marble and were inlaid with a rich moasaic of blue and green tiles.

The various sconces on the walls were made from highly polished bronze and adorned with Windsor blue taper candles, Freddie paused at a polished wooden door and gave Greg a reassuring smile.

 

'Now, before we enter this room I want you to know this, I'm not exactly what you'd call a conventional Therapist, I try to promote drug free solutions if I can help it and I like to offer a less clinical approach.'

'You're a grown man and you don't need me telling you how to think or feel, but it's my job to be there for you if you need me.'

'So just take your time and don't be embarrassed, This is a safe space and you can trust me, I'm not going to take the piss or judge you, I'm just here to listen, so you can tell me as much or as little as you want.'

 

Greg let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, he felt himself relax slightly and he smiled wryly at Freddie.

 

'Let's just get on with it shall we?'

 

Freddie smiled at him opened the door, the room was large and airy, with bay windows and a large mahogany fireplace set into the wall.

There were bookshelves bursting with leather-bound books and paintings by Salvador Dali, Tamara de Lempicka and Jan Pienkowski hung on the dark wooden panelled walls in gold frames.

The room smelled pleasantly of incense and woodsmoke, there was also curios and trinkets scattered around the room in precise formations.

In all honesty, he had never been in a room quite like it, you would think that all the garish colours and hippy iconography would make it an uncomfortable place to be.

But when Freddie showed him into his technicolour den, speaking in his cultured, lilting voice and offered him a comfortable chair by the fire, plonked down an ashtray and two tumblers of whisky...Well, It started to feel quite cosy.

 

'Now then Greg, I can sense that you're a whisky man, well, in light of recent events, I thought I'd treat you to a 12-year-old single malt, let's have ourselves a wee dram before we talk about anything too horrible.'

 

Greg almost jumped out of his skin when the buzzer for his flat shrieked at him that his food had arrived, but one large portion of Kung pao chicken and fried rice later, he lay sprawled in his bed.

It was only mid-evening but he was utterly exhausted, emotionally and physically, his belly was full and his body felt fuzzy from the enormous amount he at eaten, he snuggled deeper into his duvet and instantly fell into a well-deserved food coma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been neglecting Greg and I hope this chapter made up for it.
> 
> I thought it was about time I introduced some of my own characters into the story, I hope you guys approve of them.
> 
> I've already started writing the next chapter so hopefully, I'll have another one posted soon.
> 
> Writing is damn hard but I live for your kudos and kind words of encouragement.


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